TMNT - Mikey's Escape From New York
by DoodleDumble
Summary: After accidentally attacking a run-away terrorist previously disguised as a Foot soldier, Mikey has to split town to track down the criminal before catastrophe strikes - the entire country. It won't be easy with the FBI on both their tails, though! Having to figure out how the outside world works and starting off with less than the basics, will he even make it across the state?
1. Chapter 1

_Day 1_

* * *

It was just another city-rushed, chilly New York evening; bursting with the excitement and the fresh aura of activity, just like any other day before.

The gang of four were all in the lair, except one. Everyone was lounging and doing their own thing after an early, rather refreshing dinner of hamburgers, a somewhat abrupt break in their otherwise insistent pizza-habit, which may or may not have been largely Mikey's evildoing – and soon after the meal, Mikey decided to go sewer-skating. Nobody seeming to mind, getting the typical be-careful-take-your-weapons-oh-yeah-and-please-be-careful lecture from both Dad and Dad Jr., he'd taken off down the well-known sewer caverns.

Spring was right around the corner, but though it was already mid-March, New York was as cold as ever, and remnants of snow still blanketed the ground in thick layers. Intentionally having left his winter coat behind, Mikey shivered, pushing himself faster on his skateboard and relishing the stark temperature with a wild grin. Though he and his brothers all admittedly enjoyed warmer weather much more, Mikey made it a point to not always be warm and comfortable. If he was comfortable for too long, things were too boring. He wanted to dive into the chilly weather sometimes, and loved sitting out in the snow or the rain. It was the sensations – they were a part of the overall life experience, he thought, and he wanted to enjoy each to the fullest.

" _Of course, some hot chocolate would be nice once I get back."_ Mikey thought, grinning.

Flying around a cavern corner, he leaned heavily into the curve and grinded the wheels on the concrete in a delightful cry of tough, worn rubber against concrete, sending a shower of sparks into the runoff water before shooting off down the corridor to his right.

"Hurry up, lowlife! We have to move."

Forcing his skateboard to a more quiet halt, Mikey paused at the rough, nervous comment made above from somewhere outside the manhole he'd just passed underneath. Wondering, he listened.

"I'm comin', idiot," he heard, a rough voice with a slight foreign accent; then there was a scuffling sound, like a sack being thrown into a truck, and the slam of car doors.

"If you keep slowing us down to hang around and steal things, we're gonna leave you behind and let the cops pick you up. Or would you like to be reported to the Shredder?" Another voice commanded.

Mikey perked up. Ooohohoho! What had he found _here?_ Very interested now, he walked to the bottom of the manhole and climbed up the ladder to see if he could catch a peek without being noticed.

When he peered out, he wasn't exactly sure who to expect, and so was surprised to see a small group of Foot soldiers. Shredder had replaced them with the Foot-bots already, so he wasn't sure what they were up to anymore. More than that, though, he'd never heard them actually speak before, following a strict, ninja-like silence-during-operations code, which was more than his leader could say of his own team. But what ninja with a life wanted to be silent all the time, anyway? That was so lame.

As they leaped into the back of the large, white van, Mikey's first instinct was to jump out and take them all down before they got anywhere – it would've been too easy – but on second thought, he let them leave before climbing out of the manhole and trailing them by the rooftops. At 5:13 pm, it was still way too bright outside to start a commotion – maybe he'd find something interesting if he followed them, anyway; his oldest brother had been agonizing over these enemies that had been unaccounted for until now, especially when he took them on night runs. He'd just have to come back for his skateboard later.

By the time the van reached its destination, they had gone several miles across the city, and Mikey was feeling winded and super cold, wishing he'd brought every thread of clothing they owned. They were in the dinky suburbs, closer to the shoreline, and he followed as the Foot pulled into an old, abandoned power plant.

" _Finally,"_ Mikey thought, shivering in his hiding place as the Foot jumped out of the van. Coming out last was a Foot with a grey sack slung over his shoulder, and he followed his comrades into the concrete building. _"Might as well,"_ Mikey figured, crouching to quietly leap down to the ground. Looking around, he snuck inside after the Foot soldiers, closing the door again behind him.

Having spotted a dark place as he quietly slipped in, he immediately made his way over and crept in behind some huge pipes connected to the floor and the wall. The first thing Mikey noticed was the room was shaped kind of funny; round, and all the way around it were steel pipes going every which way, into the floor and the wall and the ceiling, the only place being left to stand, where the last of the Foot soldiers was slipping away, was a concave pit with a hole and a ladder in the center, leading further down.

"Jackpot!" Mikey mumbled, smiling. When the last Foot disappeared down into the hole, Mikey waited a moment before sneaking over to take a peek. The coast was clear, so he cautiously stepped onto the ladder to climb down, but paused.

For some reason, just now, red flags popped up in his mind and his senses told him he ought to phone home for backup. He was crawling into a hole with his enemy, not knowing what he was actually about to find – but he was in such a good position to take them by surprise, and he was afraid any offbeat movement now would just give him away. It'd be so typical.

And besides...

It was just, like, six of them. He could handle it and make it home in time to catch a movie with his bros. He continued down the ladder.

Once he made it down far enough, he twisted around and peeked into the rest of the room without revealing himself. It was very large, dimly-lit and filled with unsorted supplies, and was thankfully much warmer than the snow-scape outside, so he slipped down inside with ease and found a place to hide and warm up for a few minutes. The Foot he'd followed were standing in a group discussing something while the one with the sack went off to the side to rummage through what he had, as a couple others were going about organizing some of the junk down here. Mikey crept closer to the group, silently unsheathing his nunchucks and feeling somewhat like a lion stalking through tall grass.

"...Report to the Shredder," one of the Foot was saying as Mikey slunk in behind him, from behind the piles of boxes and crates. "They don't seem to have caught on to us yet."

The other Foot nodded in agreement, and Mikey wondered who they were talking about. Not he and his bros, right? Caught on to what?

"So what about that new guy?" One of them asked in a hushed tone. "He's gonna do something stupid and get us busted. You know how they've been hot on our tails lately, for some reason."

"He's only been here for two weeks," the first said. "He's still in training. We'll make sure he doesn't screw up."

New guy, huh? Mikey figured they meant the one with the sack. However, the conversation drifted away from that issue and onto something about Foot protocol, at which point Mikey got bored and proceeded with his one-man ambush. Taking advantage of the element of surprise, he whirled the nunchucks in his right hand and struck one of the Foot in the back of the head, effectively knocking him over, and recoiled into shelter again.

"What-?!" The Foot startled back in shock, and spotting Mikey, drew their weapons.

"We're under attack!"

Mikey raspberried at his enemies as they charged at him, and the fight was on. The other two Foot that had been in the room now joined in to fight him off, but the one with the sack suddenly grabbed it up – it looked fuller than before, now – and ran off somewhere else. Not missing this, Mikey brawled on with the Foot and progressively worked for an opportunity to go after the runaway as he beat his enemies back.

Eventually, he managed to break away from the battle after significantly defeating two of the Foot, and quickly discovered the large room led off to many more like it – where he finally caught up with the Foot in an even darker area, beside a large entrance to a much bigger room like the first.

Surprisingly, once he caught up with the Foot, he forfeited his sack to turn and face Mikey, and his stance portrayed a complete lack of the fear Mikey realized he'd expected. He grinned – this guy might actually be amusing.

"You ready to take on my Nunchucks of Fury yet?" Mikey taunted, smiling confidentially and spinning his chucks.

The guy actually responded – he huffed at first with a somewhat surprised tone, but then dipped his head in acknowledgement and widened his stance, and Mikey could almost imagine the confident grin he must've been returning. "Can't say I ever seen something quite like you," he responded, and Mikey recognized him as the rough, accented voice he'd heard earlier. "But it'll take a lot more than bein' ugly to impress me."

"Oh, you're on, fly-face!" Mikey laughed, and charged at him. As soon as the Foot ducked out of the way, Mikey realized that for all his talk, this guy didn't have the kind of skills the rest of the ninjas had. In fact, he barely seemed like a beginner. He remembered how his comrades had said he'd only been here for two weeks – maybe he _was_ barely a beginner. Spinning around, Mikey came at him once more, and easily knocked the guy to the ground.

He wasn't able to wonder any more about it, because a second later, he realized he'd been caught up with – and at the same time, discovered his grand mistake of the night. There were _many_ more Foot than before, roughly around fifty and coming, and they all knew he had infiltrated this weird base of theirs.

Deftly scooping up his sack, the guy rushed out of reach as Mikey was suddenly occupied with a wave of enemies. "Should've thought twice before you snuck in here," he said before he ran off. "My Foot clan pals here were just relocating. How you like the new place?"

He hurried away from the fray with a mocking laugh, and Mikey scowled, too busy to do anything about it. But now he knew – this was supposed to be the Foot's secret new base, and he'd caught them right as they were settling in. Now he'd stirred the whole thing up like a wasp's nest, and he very well might get pummeled to a green puddle on the ground if he didn't do something quick. Deciding to ditch for now, he switched from offense to defense, and his instincts started picking up every little opportunity he might have for escape as he tried to fend off a large crowd of ninjas. Managing to trick his way out of their grasp so he wouldn't be surrounded, he darted off in the direction he'd seen the other guy go in, looking for an escape path. Many of the Foot followed him, but after fazing into dark areas and making a lot of twists and turns, he managed to lose them again for a quick moment, when he suddenly stumbled across the foreign Foot again. They were near the first room where he'd come in, where he was running to ditch his comrades and escape the makeshift underground base.

"Hey, hold it!" Mikey yelled, running and tackling the man from behind. The sack he held went flying forward, and its contents spilled on the floor.

Mikey stared, shocked. In front of them laid a folder, a large canister with a radioactive hazard symbol, and a single, loose piece of paper. Immediately, the Foot lunged after his stuff, and simply out of reaction, Mikey dove to get to them first. He managed to get the one piece of paper and spun around to reach the canister, but the Foot had already scooped it and the folder into his bag and was making a mad break for it.

"Oh no you don't-!"

Mikey started after him, but the guy suddenly spun around, reaching to pull something out of a weapons pouch.

With his other hand holding the bag, he pulled off his Foot mask to reveal an easy, scowl-like grin of amusement on his sun-burnt brown, weathered and scruffy face and the steel in his green eyes, overhung by a mess of unkempt black hair. Mikey didn't like the grin on the middle-aged man's face, like he'd cheated him of every penny to his name in a fixed gambling rip-off, and he was getting away with it as easy as anything. As the Foot soldiers came flooding in after them, Mikey heard him say, "Thanks for the get-away card, freak." Before being drowned out.

Then – BANG!

Mikey didn't know what happened first – if he saw the gun or heard the shot. But it just barely missed his head, and the sound rang through the base, halting activity for a fraction of a second – though that was all it took to allow the guy to get away.

Now the Foot were conflicted – some coming after Mikey, some going after the guy, and some wondering what just happened and what they should do. Before too much was accomplished, however, a commotion was heard above ground, and Mikey recognized it as the sound of law enforcement approaching. Suddenly seeming scatter-brained, the Foot dispersed in all directions and started taking several escape routes, many weaving back into the rooms they'd charged after Mikey through. As one passed him by, he paused for a moment to glance at him.

"Shredder's gonna tear you apart for this," he said, and darted off. "Turtle soup!"

" _Definitely time to skip,"_ Mikey nervously thought, and plowed through the flurry to make his way back up the ladder at the side of the room he'd entered from.

.

.

When he made it back above ground again and left the building, a few Foot could be seen disappearing, and the foreign guy was nowhere to be found. Hurrying to a shady, sheltered place on top of a building nearby, Mikey finally admitted it to himself – that guy was definitely not a Foot soldier, and he wasn't sure he even had any connection to Shredder at all. He felt duped, in a way – who _was_ he, and what was that stuff he was carrying? What is he planning on doing with it? Mikey wondered, at the same time the realization he'd almost been shot in the head catching up with him. He wrapped his arms around himself and shivered a little; after curiously looking at the folded paper he'd snatched from the guy, still in his hand, he reached for his T-phone. This had gotten out of control a while ago – before he did anything else at this point, his brothers needed to know what was up.

Just as he was pulling up his contacts, a dark vehicle suddenly peeled into the power plant and skidded to a stop near the building they'd just been in, and men in black, thick-padded armor with large guns in hand seemingly started coming out of nowhere, pouring out of what Mikey realized was an army truck and dropping in from a helicopter that arrived quickly after, before swerving back out of sight. Shocked, Mikey backed further into the shadows and into a little nook in the beams of the steel tower behind him and watched with wide eyes, wondering what was happening. Cops blaring sirens quickly tore in behind the military truck as the soldiers, whom Mikey now realized was a SWAT team, infiltrated the buildings around them, including the one the Foot had just feverishly escaped. Watching this, Mikey crouched down further, knowing he needed to get away but wanting to know what was going on.

Another man then came out of the truck, dressed in more formal military attire, and a policeman approached him to discuss something. From where he was, Mikey was able to hear most of the conversation, and strained to listen.

"We should've figured we'd get a lead here," the FBI man said to the cop. "He seemed to have been moving in this direction with them lately. You sure it was actually them?"

 _He?_ They didn't mean _**him,**_ did they?! Mikey's heart leapt up uncomfortably and seemed to lodge somewhere.

"Absolutely," the cop replied. "It makes sense – the Foot started moving whenever we got close to tracking him down. They definitely would've made the perfect disguise – and our latest evidence put this place under suspicion. We didn't need to give it a second thought when we got disturbance reports from this area."

" _It doesn't sound like they're talking about me...phew. But 'disturbance reports'..."_ Mikey thought, dryly swallowing. _"_ That _wouldn't be me, with the fight I started, would it? Probably..."_

A SWAT soldier then approached the FBI man, saying, "Nobody was found and much of the evidence was destroyed again – but there was enough to be sure they were here, sir. We got'em tacked down this time."

"Good," he said, and the soldier rushed off again to help his comrades. Without turning back to the cop, he continued, "My men turned this rat's nest up. They were here, but he's scampered off before we could catch him, again. Not only that, but four weeks ago, he managed to snatch up that radioactive material, and now he's made off with some confidential stats. Whatever plan he's got, he's successfully undermined all espionage tactics we've employed to sniff him out – always sneaking away again, like the little rat he is." Suddenly, the man threw his hat down and stamped on it in frustration, cursing.

Were they talking about that foreign guy, Mikey wondered? Duh – of course they were, he chastised himself. He was getting scared. He'd picked up that the guy was odd, but the FBI was tracking him down? The canister Mikey had seen was radioactive material, apparently. Who was he?

Suddenly, he remembered something one of the Foot had said, only but an hour ago:

" _So what about that new guy? He's gonna do something stupid and get us busted. You know how they've been hot on our tails lately, for some reason."_

Whatever was going on here, Mikey had led the FBI right into the midst of it all, effectively pouring fuel on the fire.

" _Thanks for the get-away card, freak."_

That's what he had said, right before he got away. No, right before Mikey practically swung the door open for him and guarded his way out. He scowled to himself. What was he going to do with the chemicals he'd stolen? But whatever he did, Mikey had given him the perfect opportunity to get away with it, and now who _knew_ where he was.

As Mikey thought, everything fell into place, and the scale of things left him feeling suddenly nauseous. He'd been such an idiot. What was all this possibly going to mean?

"We've got to move," the cop said. "They must put heavy concentration on all terrorist surveillance in case he and any others try to leave the country. We _cannot_ allow them to use what they've gotten their hands on."

"Exactly," The FBI man said. Another truck arrived, and after he executed a few hand signs, the SWAT soldiers started going back to the trucks with some of their findings. "We don't know where he went, but he couldn't have gotten far – we'll fan out; we're not resting until these bastards have been found. With the latest developments, we have several theories back at base of an eminent attack – and he's obviously had the help of some buddies tonight. I'll contact the president to tighten all borderline security, and you and your men keep an eye out. You know what details are confidential; don't humor the press more than you have to, but issue a request for everyone to be careful. We might be in a lot of danger here."

Terrorist.

That's what the guy was. Now Mikey knew _exactly_ what his mistake was going to mean.

He'd been such an idiot.

How was he supposed to know?!

With a curt nod, the man and the cop quickly marched off to their respective vehicles, before – the sound of a machine gun suddenly exploded through the air, and concrete shrapnel flew up in Mikey's face. Startled, he jumped and looked around, heart flying in his chest, to find an FBI soldier had spotted him and was climbing over the side of the building toward him. It drew the others' attention, and all eyes were now on his silhouetted figure.

"It isn't a Foot. I got another terrorist over here!"

The shouted announcement almost seemed dull in Mikey's ears as they started ringing. Oh, no, oh no, oh no – Mikey's mind whirled in a thousand directions now, and he started moving automatically, trying to make an escape as a smokebomb and gunfire started coming out of nowhere, almost just like how the soldiers had arrived. What should he do? Was he about to get taken out and taken apart by the FBI? Where should he go?! Home! – _**No!**_ He couldn't go home now – not without leading all hell to their lair. With the same thought, as Mikey ducked and bolted around like a rabbit, somehow making an uninjured escape away from the power plant and running faster than he ever had in his life, he tucked his T-phone back into its pocket in his waist strap. There was no way he'd be able to contact his brothers now, not safely. It was too late for that; he didn't want to risk anything, not even allow the smallest chance that he might lead these guys to his home.

So, what? What now? What was he supposed to do?

Before anything else, he needed to find a place to clear his head for a minute, think about what just happened. Looking behind him several times to see if he was being followed, he headed away from the area, further into town with all the crowds of people going about their business, and found a tight little corner beside a dumpster and behind some garbage cans in an alley. He hunkered down, drawing his knees up and wrapping his arms around them, and he buried his head, eyes clenched shut and terrified.

After a few moments, he contemplated moving further out in case he was being chased, but was too petrified to try, or even look up to check his surroundings. He started shivering in a cold sweat, and his pounding heart started to feel like it'd come right out of his chest. Taking a few minutes to try to calm himself, when he finally convinced himself he would've been caught by now if they knew where he was, he mustered up the strength to glance about; and only seeing regular people rushing around on the streets like normal when he looked around the dumpster, he managed to relax enough to collect his thoughts.

He still felt too paranoid to try to go home. No – he shouldn't go home, he scolded himself again; that was stupid. It was too dangerous, for his family if nothing else, to wimp out and try to run home with the FBI on his tail, and with their technology, trying to call probably wasn't too much different. No – it was wrong. He knew these fears were somewhat far-fetched, but when it came to his family and the government, neither he nor any of the other four risked anything. He quickly knocked it out as an option.

So since he was on his own for the time being, what should he do? Try not to screw up any more than he already had? He felt so stupid. But what was he supposed to do? Of all the times he and his bros had fought the Foot, _now_ he had to run headfirst into some lethal scramble between two opposing countries. What was that even about? He had no idea a terrorist had joined the Foot clan – apparently nobody really did, not entirely. He didn't even know it was possible, but he supposed something as crazy as that was more likely than he thought – a terrorist hiding within the guise of another, secret terrorist organization.

Mikey mumbled a curse, putting his hands on top of his head. He'd let that guy get away, and the FBI was hot on both their tails. What had he done?

"...In the suburbs of New York City, where gunfire has been heard in the past hour."

The phrase caught his attention, and Mikey's gaze snapped around to the TVs behind the window of the store across the street, where some people had gathered to watch the news.

"Wow, that's scary!" A female reporter mused. "But the crime rate had just dropped again."

"Indeed," another reporter responded. "It's still a scary world out there. Remember everyone, gang fights are very dangerous, and the area should be avoided while the police handle the situation. – Oh, wait, I've got incoming news. The gang face-off seems to have escalated further than we thought,"

Mikey's face slowly continued to fall as the news unfolded on the TV. The people watching started looking shocked, and more gathered to watch the story.

"This just in," the reporter announced, "What we previously thought was a gang fight is turning out to be something more. Our sources are telling us that a _terrorist_ may have been the center of the conflict, and law enforcements are currently working to handle the situation. We've got Rick Dunman, head of the N.Y.C. Police Department on the phone. Tell us what's going on, Rick?"

"Yes, hello," a mechanized voice came. "Just like you said – according to our intel, there has been some terrorist activity recently in the suburb area, and we've had a bit of a scuffle here tonight, but there have been no casualties or injuries and our team is hard at work to control the situation. Ah, it's advisable that everyone remain calm and keep cautious during this time to ensure everyone's safety."

"That's some heavy news, Rick," the reporter said. "Are there any safety procedures the locales should follow at this time?"

"It's highly recommended that everyone near the immediate area return to their homes or seek shelter," Came Rick's automated voice, "And keep your kids indoors, for sure. Don't interact with anyone suspicious, and report them to the police immediately. Developments around the old power plant –"

Mikey's attention shot back to himself as his T-phone suddenly started ringing. _No!_ What were they doing? – Scrambling, he dug his phone out of its pouch in a panic and looked at it, jamming the mute button several times. It was Raph – they were probably all wondering where he was. If they were watching the news, and based on the timing of the call, he could only assume – then they were probably worried.

He cut the call off, hoping the contact would go unnoticed by any higher authority or whatever he was afraid of for now, and returned his attention to the TVs across the street.

"...Near the suburbs," Rick was saying. "We still don't have producible proof, but reports from the scene indicate a terrorist sighting. Our team was unable to identify him, but he appeared to be a short man in battle gear. No threats have been made, but every suspect terrorist is being considered armed and dangerous, so everyone needs to be very careful at this time and remain calm. We've currently employed a large militia to eliminate the threat, and we can assure that this will be done promptly."

"Thank you, Rick," the reporter said. After the call ended, he said, "Well, there you have it – our local police force strongly suggests everyone near the area return home for now; be careful out there, everyone. We'll be following this story..."

Slowly turning to look back at the side of the building in front of him again, Mikey shivered and pulled his knees in closer, stunned. His chest felt heavy with the weight of the situation, and his brain was muddled down with anxiety; and he was sick to the stomach, not for the first time this evening.

He knew the FBI was chasing them, but they'd just declared a lethal manhunt.

He needed to find the terrorist, but he was afraid of being found _himself_. On top of their search-and-destroy mission, they said back at the power plant that they'd be securing the New York and U.S. borderlines, so maybe they'd catch the guy after all. Sticking his snout any further into this was probably far more dangerous than anything else –

Aw, who was he kidding? The man had managed to steal a whole canister of radioactive chemicals, sneak into the Foot, and slip out from under Mikey, a trained ninja, in less time than it took the FBI to pin him down to his location. Despite being unskilled as a warrior, Mikey had failed to realize his other tactical specialties and the fact that he was purposefully being employed for a single mission, which had caused him to out-reach the turtle by a long shot and get away. He was packing some serious stuff, and had probably already left the state.

Mikey leaned his head back and let it hit the wall behind him with a sigh. Nothing felt safe anymore. He knew he had to move, but he didn't know where to go. He felt the FBI had pretty successfully already cornered him before they'd even found him.

He took out his T-phone again, conflicted, and stared at it. With a sudden realization, he wondered if his brothers were coming after him. Since they weren't bombarding him with calls, he had to imagine Donnie had pinned his location with the tracker imbedded in all their phones, and they were on their way.

Startled, Mikey got up looking around, as if expecting to see them. When he didn't, he went behind the building and started quickly snaking his way down the dark alleys, not knowing how close they were. Finally coming to a somewhat secure, cluttered, shadowy place behind a restaurant, he came to a stop again and contemplated his phone, gripped tight in his hand.

He absolutely couldn't risk keeping the tracker. And if his brothers were going to be trying to call him, he needed to make sure then and there that nobody could be traced back with signals.

None of his bros really thought about it, but if Donnie was a mechanic, Mikey was a tech junkie. He had a long enough history with modding his games and gaming systems, using Don's various computers and tweaking his T-phone to know his way around a few more wires than he let on. He flipped the phone over and opened the battery compartment, and began dismantling things in the way.

After he removed the tracking device, he dropped it to the ground.

"Sorry, Donnie," he said, lamenting his brother's intricate piece of machinery. He stomped on it, crunching it.

The next part would be somewhat more complicated, but he'd done it once before, as part of a prank. Though, last time he had Donnie's library of tech tools and how-to-nerd books at his disposal. Using the blade of his Kusarigama, after removing the battery and motherboard, he got down into the tiny wires and pieces beneath. It took a bit of wire re-crossing and a little tweaking of the motherboard, but after just a few minutes he was done. He put it back together and turned it on, and after entering a code on the starting screen, it looked completely normal again.

" _That'll scramble my signal,"_ Mikey thought as he stuffed his phone back in his belt. _"Anyone who calls can't pinpoint where I am, and no one can follow any contacts I make. Hopefully it'll do what I need it to..."_

There was a _ca-chunk_ sound on the roof above him, and immediately he fazed back into the shadows, looking around fearfully. He probably just had the jitte –

There was a moving black form on top of the building that had been behind him, and as it moved closer to the edge, he realized it was a SWAT soldier. Another one came up behind him; even though they were trying to be inconspicuous, Mikey spotted them. He watched them with wide eyes and waited, not daring to move.

The first guy made a few hand motions, and the other one nodded before they took one last peek at the alley and moved away again. They descended another side of the building and started sneaking away in that direction, away from Mikey.

Quickly easing up, as soon as he thought he could, Mikey stepped out of his hiding place with a quiet, shivering sigh and quickly went back the other way, down the alley.

After deliberating for a moment as he ran, Mikey finally decided to get it together and go look for the terrorist himself. It was either put himself in untold danger and try to fix this mess he'd made, or risk his whole family's safety by running home and sitting back to watch whatever kind of hell unfolded because of tonight's events. He knew which he had to do; after all, if that guy could evade the FBI, then he guessed, so could...gosh darnit. He didn't know that, and he wasn't about to jinx himself.

Yet, if things stayed this way and he kept hiding, he had a feeling he'd get caught...or freeze to death. He nodded to himself – he had to go after the guy. It was the only thing he could do.

He didn't have any leads, though. Where was he supposed to look first? He didn't see which direction he had gone when he left the Foot lair.

" _I can't just run around like a shot deer,"_ Mikey thought. _"I'd be caught that way for sure."_

After taking a quick second to appreciate that he _had_ managed to make it this far without being shot, he stopped on a fire escape on the side of a building, wondering what to do, when he heard a crinkling sound and looked down. He noticed a piece of paper wedged in next to his phone pouch – the one he had nabbed from the terrorist.

It was folded in half. He still hadn't looked to see what it said.

Taking it out now, he hesitated with it in his hands, and unfolded it. Scanning it over carefully, he read the scrawled handwriting:

 _Indian Point plant, 2 gl. drum_

 _H. wren south, initiating in 20 days_

After re-reading it a few times, Mikey lowered the paper. From what he remembered from some news report a few years ago, Indian Point was a nuclear power plant in Buchanan, NY. The guy must've gone there to get his – "2 gl. drum", as the paper put it.

H. wren south, initiating in 20 days...

Wren south? What did that mean? Who was H. wren?

Of course, the paper was curt enough that he couldn't really tell what anything meant _–_ probably on purpose, he supposed. But even so, the word "south" was all Mikey needed to go on. Taking hold of the paper with both hands and looking up, he decided where he had to go from here.

Other than that, he couldn't make sense out of the rest of it, so he left it be. However, whatever was happening in 20 days, he had a feeling he wanted to make his intervention before then. He didn't like the sound of it.

Folding the paper back up and shoving it back in his belt, he looked around and started moving again – what did this mean he had to do? How far south was he going to have to go? He wished he knew, but he reminded himself he couldn't go back home until this guy was found anyway – so it was going to have to not matter. But depending on the distance, he might have to make some considerations. Did he need to hitch a ride?

Blast it all, just how _far_ south did it mean?!

Before he was able to think about it any more, a sharp, crackling sound made him jump, and a hard impact suddenly sounded directly behind him, where he whirled around to see a taser attached to the brick wall beside him. Before he could react, he then heard the exploding sound of bullets flying out of a machine gun and ripping through solid matter, and the bricks near him were assaulted as he ducked, just in time to see the line of bullet fire slice through the area his head had just been. Heart racing, Mikey cursed and darted out of the area, hearing a voice behind him shout into a walkie-talkie –

"We've got one, South Edmans St. and heading southwest!"

Mikey's thoughts flew through his head now, realizing he had no time left. If he stayed any longer, the FBI was going to eat him alive. They'd caught back up with him, and they weren't about to let him go.

If he was going to avoid the FBI, find any trace of that stupid terrorist, and protect his family, himself and the country at all, he had to get the shell out of state, NOW.

" _Don't leave the lair, guys,"_ Mikey pleadingly thought, hoping to God that his family had seen the news and would act smart about it. _"Not now. Wait for me, ok?"_

 _._

 _._

His feet seemed to move on their own as he flew away from the soldiers, straining keen vision to keep a lookout for more and slipping through small, twisted routes to lose them, headed toward the pizza parlor he knew was so close by. There was a delivery guy who had an old pick-up truck he was working to replace, though it was large and not suited to the job he'd chosen, and he was always on the go so he often left the keys in the ignition between deliveries. For a fraction of a second, Mikey felt a little bad, but it was gone immediately with another fear-stricken glance behind him, looking for pursuers. He just hoped the delivery guy was at the parlor right now.

As he got closer, he thanked everything good and right when he saw the familiar old truck sitting behind the parlor, already running as if it were waiting for him. Mikey had jumped down next to it and flown into the driver's seat almost before he even realized. At this point, however, he hesitated. He'd never driven before.

Well, maybe that wasn't true. He did once, during a battle, but it lasted about five seconds before he deliberately wrecked the car in their enemy's face.

Oh, what to do, what to do?! Thank goodness it was at least an automatic instead of a stick-shift, but that was practically the only thing modern about the truck. Wishing desperately he'd made himself take the Shellraiser on a test-drive months ago, trying desperately to look at all the controls quickly and figure out what to do first, he shifted into reverse and hit the gas, flying backward.

"Crap!" Mikey yelped, smashing into some garbage cans behind him before switching back to drive and moving forward. Peeling away from the parlor, he got onto the road and merged into traffic before it struck him that he was actually driving.

Forced to slow down in the midst of the traffic, he looked wildly around through the windows in search of the SWAT soldiers, but he saw none for the moment. Maybe he'd actually managed to lose them for the time being, but he knew it wouldn't last long. Had they actually seen him? This question was gnawing at his brain. They hadn't initially – that is, not in enough light to know he wasn't a human – but he'd encountered them again once after that, on the fire escape. No – the place had been heavily shadowed, he was fairly certain they hadn't gotten a much better view than the first time. Forcing himself to calm down a little, though his heart was flying in his chest and his hands were shaking, he now let the nervousness of being tightly packed in by people when he didn't really know how to drive attack his upset stomach.

" _I just hope I'm doing it right,"_ he thought, re-checking the controls whenever he got a chance.

.

.

Not having a compass or directions of any kind, he did his best to follow traffic and road signs south, though all the criss-crossed, hanging and posted road signs directing him in every possible direction and toward each and every McDonalds within a 3-mile radius of each other did managed to confuse him thoroughly. He kept thinking of how much easier it was to recognize where he was going, and just _go_ there, when he and his bros went on night patrols and ran along the rooftops. He never realized how different and complicated driving was. He wondered if Leo ever felt like this when he drove the Shellraiser?

Although Mikey was always the one in charge of giving him directions, which was hard enough itself. He wondered if he could remember some of the roads on the map installed in the Shellraiser to help him go south.

A few times, unused to the controls, he forgot which pedals were the gas and the brake, but almost slamming into the backs of numerous cars and barely escaping with his life through an intersection – all without his seatbelt on – helped him learn quickly and reminded him to buckle up. Besides this, as hard as he was trying to blend in, he accidentally broke a few traffic laws, managing to get some angry shouts from impatient citizens – which otherwise would have all made him shrink back in embarrassment, but he could hardly concern himself when getting away was so pressing on his mind. He flew down every road he could get away with, not even trying to mind the speed limit. Being flagged for that kind of thing in the city he lived in, at the time of day it was, was the last thing he was worried about.

Eventually, as he was making it closer to the outskirts of the city, he saw something unusual – there seemed to be an incident of some kind up ahead, and there was a ton of traffic waiting to get through. Slowing to a stop at the back of it, wondering what it was, Mikey had a sudden idea and turned on the radio, switching to a station he knew would have updates about things like this.

After a second of heavy static, the radio cleared and a voice came on, saying, "-All around the city, blocking up every road north, east, west and southbound and everything in between. Search for the terrorists is ongoing, and none have been reported in yet by our local police department..."

They hadn't caught him, after all, Mikey thought. He'd figured as much...but now he guessed what this giant traffic jam was.

"Incoming and outgoing traffic will continue to be monitored until further notice, according to our sources. Delays are expected all over the state -"

Mikey shut off the radio again, putting his fingers to his forehead for a second before looking around through the windows again. He wondered if he could afford to just sit here, but he felt relatively hidden amongst the crowd of other cars trying to leave the city. More importantly, how was he going to get through inspection?

Even as he wondered, there didn't seem to be anything he could do. People had come in behind him and he couldn't turn around to try to find a different route. All kinds of possibilities went through his head – somehow letting the truck get towed and hiding in the backseat, pulling off somewhere to find a disguise, even winging it and flying through the inspection point – but nothing he came up with seemed realistic. There wasn't a lot he could do without being seen, either, he thought; even though the night concealed him enough to make up for the clear, dirty windows of the old pick-up, he couldn't just jump out in the middle of all these people to abandon the truck. He was coming up really close to the checkpoint and seriously considering trying to cut through traffic to pull off and ditch the truck somewhere to hide in another one, but soon realized he didn't have to.

Cops were walking around with flashlights and investigating cars almost directly in front of him, and he broke out into a cold sweat when he saw one start walking towards him. His mind went blank and he was suddenly sure he was doomed and cursing himself for not ditching the truck sooner, when they all heard the commotion behind them.

SWAT soldiers had suddenly shown up at the back of the traffic jam and were loudly making their way through, investigating all the cars they passed by much more abruptly than the cops in front of him. Feeling cornered, Mikey looked ahead again in a panic, and saw the cops had come to a nervous stand-still while the cars in front of him were moving forward quickly.

He didn't waste any time. Mikey stomped the gas and got out of there.

Weaving around the other cars that had also taken the opportunity, Mikey hurried down the less-congested road ahead of the checkpoint and took brief glances behind him to find the FBI. They were still assaulting the cars waiting in the traffic jam, and either hadn't noticed or dismissed the few that had just taken off ahead.

He couldn't believe it. He'd made it through. Mikey leaned back in the seat and continued driving, making a b-line for i-278 and whimpering as he feverishly scrubbed away the panicked tears leaking out of his eyes with shivering hands.

* * *

The road had started changing.

One mile rolled by, then three, then he was out as far in the city as he and his brothers had ever ventured – then, after the nervous, daring next few miles, he was out of familiar range. It was a very strange feeling. Scary, exhilarating, nerve-wracking – his stomach did a flip when he nervously, wobbly veered onto the highway and drummed up the speed, and found he couldn't stop staring at the buildings of the outskirts and the scenery around them. The great city of New York brightly, loudly welcomed visitors, but once you started making your way out, the lights and the buildings and the noise slowly faded and became smaller, as if it weren't aware you were leaving, and as Mikey went, he couldn't seem to be able to convince himself that he was.

As the city became increasingly less and less evident and his surroundings less hospitable and tourist-friendly, Mikey started feeling a painful ache in his chest and a deep yearning to go back, run back to the city and go home. But he couldn't – and that feeling struck him and continued to haunt him for hours, as he numbly watched a never-seen, strange landscape creep out of the pictures in his mind and whizz by him from where he was in the old pick-up truck. It was as if he were entering a new, strange, darker world with new rules, and he was completely naive and vulnerable – only making the anxiety and fear of his escape worse. At certain times, he thought the pain and the fear and the longing for his family would be too much to bear. As soon as he was far enough past the city limits that it was all gone, out in the cold, quiet night, he found a sleepy town, picked out a sheltered corner behind a drug store, crawled in the back seat and immediately shut his eyes and tried to go to sleep, shut down and forget it all.

...

Hours passed. His brothers had started calling him again before, trying to contact him some time after he'd made it out of the city, but he ignored them. He wanted to turn his phone off, but he was too afraid of making a mistake while driving, his desperate longing to retreat back home stopped him from cutting himself off, and everything was overwhelming him. He couldn't make himself do it. But every time his phone rang, his heart clenched again and he cursed inwardly as he blinked back the newly emerging tears blurring his vision.

As it grew later, the calls lessened when they realized he wasn't picking up tonight, and by the time he'd reached a small town a few hours from the city, they'd stopped completely, and in the silence he felt more alone in all the world than he'd ever known. Even with the quiet, Mikey found he was completely unable to go to sleep – the stress of the night left him feeling anxious, guilty, sick to the stomach and bitterly awake. And to top off the fact that he was cold, hungry, scared and miserable with an intense headache budding in his skull, the weight of the loneliness came crashing down on him now so everything felt ten times worse, and he had absolutely nothing but his gear and weapons – and his ipod. He'd grabbed it to go sewer skating.

Feeling an emotional meltdown coming on, Mikey quickly dug his ipod out of the back of his belt and stuffed the earbuds in, trying to calm down and listening to some song, but he couldn't help it; he fell apart, there in the tattered back seat of the old truck, behind some drugstore in a place he didn't know, holding the sides of his head tight, and he let out a frustrated, broken cry, ripping out the earbuds. He hated himself and everything that had lead him here - that terrorist, the FBI, Shredder and his Foot clan, this stupid old truck. He didn't think anybody could hear him, and he didn't care. He sobbed, curling up in a ball and burying his face in his arms, angry and defeated. He could hear tree frogs quietly in the background – he'd never heard them in person before – and their lulling sound seemed to be trying to comfort him, but they didn't help. He could only lay there, shivering and sobbing, and he wrapped his arms around his head, wishing he could fall unconscious and let it end.

After a few minutes, his phone rang again.

Mikey's crying softened. Slowly, he looked up at his phone, laying on the seat at his head. The screen lit up the side of the seat where the moonlight shone through the dirty window, softly illuminating the night. Leo's icon displayed the identity of the caller; Mikey watched unmoving as the ringtone played. It was late...everyone had stopped calling a while ago, and Mikey just imagined Leo sitting in bed, bent over in despair with his phone to his ear, not expecting to be answered but calling out of anxious worry. Unable to sleep, like Mikey.

 _Weeeeeeeeeeee-ooooooooooeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee-oooooooooooeeeeeeee_.

The tree frogs quietly played their song in the background, gently offering comfort. As Mikey listened, laying limply on his side, it seemed their song began to change.

 _Leeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeo, Leeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeo, Leeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeo._

He sighed, closed his eyes. He reached up over his head, took his phone and put it to his ear, put his other hand over his eyes. He answered the call.

There was silence on both ends for a few seconds. Then, as he knew Leo was realizing he had answered, Mikey spoke up with a sob-choked, croaky voice; "Leo."

"...Mikey?" Came a weary, increasingly frazzled voice on the other end. "Mikey, is that you? Oh, God..." There were another few seconds of muffled silence, and Mikey thought he heard stifled whimpers, as if Leo had put his hand over his mouth. It broke Mikey's heart to hear him so worried. Then, Leo continued quietly, "Mikey, little bro, are you ok? We saw this crazy news report, the FBI and something about a terrorist being hunted down – and then we remembered you were gone, you had gone out but you hadn't come back yet, and we tried to track you down and we found your skateboard but we lost your signal and had to go back because it was too dangerous - oh, Mikey, we sat in front of the TV just watching the news for hours, waiting to see if anything new came up 'cause we didn't know what had happened to you or if they were after you, and everybody tried to call you but you never answered - none of us left any messages, we were too scared, we just wanted you to answer your phone..."

Another couple seconds as Leo gathered himself again. Then, "Mikey, please, _please_ tell me you're ok?"

"I'm alright, it's ok, Leo, I'm fine," Mikey said, putting his hand on top of his head, now understanding the full extent of his family's desperation as the guilt wrenched his insides apart. It killed him hearing all the worry and devastation in his oldest brother's voice. Leo never cried – well, not openly and not often, and it was really unusual for him to ramble on; it definitely confirmed how terribly worried he'd made them all. "I'm ok, I'm fine. I promise. I'm sorry, Leo, I'm so, so sorry. It wasn't just me – I tried to stop him but I screwed up big time, bigger than any stupid mistake I've ever made before, and I'm never, ever gonna be able to – I – please –" his croaking voice grew increasingly unsteady, and he broke off with a whimper, unable to say any more. He started crying again, and dragged his hand down over his face, melting into an emotional mess. "Please don't hate me," he quietly whined, his voice high and faltering. "I'm so sorry, please don't hate me..."

Leo hushed and soothed him as he cried, giving more comfort than Mikey thought was possible over the phone. He curled up in a tighter ball and cradled the phone to the side of his face, squeezing his free arm around himself, trying to ease his crying.

"No, no, no. Shhhhhh, it's alright, little baby brother...don't cry. It's all gonna be alright..." Leo's voice came gently, softly, even as he still sounded upset and choked up himself, and in all likelihood was scared to death by the outburst of an explanation Mikey had tried to give. "I don't hate you. Mikey, I'd never hate you, no matter what. No matter _what,_ Mikey. Don't you cry...everything's gonna be ok, I promise. Don't you cry, little baby brother..."

Mikey rubbed his muzzle, trying to quell his insistent crying, but every time he thought he was getting better, he'd choke and break down again. He didn't know how long he laid there, taking in Leo's worried comfort, how long they stayed on the phone wishing they could be with each other. Mikey only knew his episode of panic and then lack of words, his unceasing, stressed crying and his inability to pull himself back together scared Leo to no ends. He didn't like it – worrying his big brother so bad. He knew it was gonna happen, that's one of the reasons he never wanted to answer the phone. But he just couldn't take it anymore. He couldn't...

After Mikey's crying had finally quieted some, the tree frogs filling in the quiet, they both took a few minutes to let the calm and the stillness dry their tears. Mikey heard the familiar, digitalized sound of the city on Leo's end, muffled, quiet and lulling in the lair. It had always helped him sleep before, and it relaxed him a bit, reminded him of home. He knew Leo could hear the tree frogs on his end, and knowing his brother, he expectantly waited for him to ask about them, once they spoke again; but they were both nervous, he hesitant to explain his situation, and the other nervous to venture. But the prolonged silence might only be making the nervousness worse, Mikey figured. He could tell Leo was scared, and the anxiousness to keep Mikey on the line might be driving him crazy.

"Leo," Mikey spoke up again. "I miss you guys, really bad."

"We miss you too, Mike, so much." Leo replied, and Mikey could almost hear his sad, longing expression in his voice. "I hear tree frogs in the background," he huffed a small laugh, taking an indirect poke at the where-are-you subject, trying to gently approach the matter.

"I've never heard them before," Mikey said, and smiled a little. "Not in person. They're so relaxing...I wish you guys could be here."

Leo chuckled. "They sound nice...I wish I was there, too, ya'know."

Mikey giggled, too, and sighed. He wanted to tell Leo all about what happened, why he left, where he was. He knew he was dying to know. But he couldn't tell him his location, because he knew the millisecond Leo got a lead, he'd jump on the Stealth Bike and tear through the city to come get him. And...he just couldn't let him do that – he'd come all this way to keep them all safe, and protect them from what was going on. He had to give him something, though. He deserved that much, all of them did. He mustered up some courage, tried to suppress his guilt and started trying to figure out what to say. As Mikey hesitated, Leo guessed what for, and waited as patiently as he could.

"I just didn't know what else to do, Leo." Mikey began, his thoughts starting to whirr again. "It's a long story, but I swear to you, leaving was my only option. I – I had to do it to protect everyone, ok? It was all my fault. It all happened so fast – The FBI was after both of us. I got mixed up in a bad situation with the Foot – if Shredder gets his hands on me he'll chop me to pieces and hang my head on a stake. It got too dangerous, and I had to leave to fix my mistake. I promise, I tried to make the right decision. I'm so sorry, I'm such an idiot – I'm such an idiot! One day I'm gonna get everybody killed, and -"

"Whoa, whoa, Mikey, slow down!" Leo said, sounding shocked. "Both of you? Y-you really – the FBI found you? So they were hunting you-! But the Shredder? – Mikey, just what happened?" Suddenly sounding very much more worried, he asked, "Are you sure you're alright? Are you hurt? You aren't hurt, are you? Mikey, _please_ -"

"No, no, I'm fine, Leo, it's alright! I'm ok, I promise," Mikey said, sitting up in the back of the truck. "Just..." Tucking his legs up close and wrapping his free arm around his knees, he repeatedly tried to better explain the flurry of information he just threw at his nerve-rattled brother, but not knowing how to begin, he finally gave an exasperated sigh, giving up.

If they were gonna get anywhere with this conversation, one of them was going to have to calm down, Mikey thought, almost making a sarcastic chuckle. Just by how cold, hungry, vulnerable and sickly anxious he was, just telling Leo he wasn't hurt felt like a lie, he thought with a shiver. Since he started trying to escape the city, he felt unsafe in his own skin, paranoid and constantly looking behind him. Even though getting away gave him much better chances, he was never sure he wasn't being followed. If anyone happened to catch up to him, he definitely wouldn't be ok – but that was a chance he was forced to take.

"Mikey," Leo suddenly asked, fed up with drawing it out any longer. " _Where_ _ **are**_ you?"

Leo sounded so desperate, so pleadingly begging to know where he was, if he was safe. Mikey dipped his head and put his fingers over his scrunched eyes, biting back a sob. When he didn't respond, Leo spoke again, sounding nervous, maybe frightened. "Mikey?"

Mikey breathed in slowly, let out a quiet sigh to steady his voice and pull himself together. "I can't tell you, Leo." He said, ignored the distressed sigh Leo let out and interrupted before he could start begging, "Listen. The FBI was after a terrorist that was hiding, disguised as a Foot soldier. I didn't know, I just found a group and was following them; but I ended up making the wrong move and got mixed up in the guy's mess. I should have called you guys. But he got away with some dangerous stuff because of me, and I led a SWAT team right up into everything – now the FBI thinks I'm one of the terrorists. I had to get away to avoid them, but they're looking for shady foreigners, not turtles, so you guys will be safe – just please try to be careful right now, they're scanning the city for anything suspicious, and Shredder probably has a reward for my disemboweled head for attracting the FBI to him."

Mikey paused for a second, letting out a small, frazzled sigh and putting his hand to his temple. "I think I'm the only one who knows where the guy escaped to, and it's my fault he got away. Screw it – if I _don't_ go try to fix this, I could end up with a lot of blood on my hands. I think they might be planning an attack, and I have to stop them; it's my responsibility. Once I just find their base and expose it, the government will wash them out and the issue will be resolved, and they can go back to raising taxes and stuff elsewhere. I just – I have to do this, Leo." Mikey said, and after a moment, put his hand over his face and let his forehead hit his knee guard. "I'm sorry. I'm the biggest idiot on the face of the planet, and might've jeopardized the entire country. I said I tried to make the right decision. But if you guys hate me forever, I'll understand."

There was a short moment of silence. After better explaining the stupid, sticky situation he'd managed to get himself in, he couldn't imagine what was going through Leo's mind now, but he completely expected full-out rage from at least one of them when they all found out. After thinking for a few minutes, Leo spoke up again.

"Mikey, you're _not_ an idiot, and I _**don't**_ hate you. Quit saying that. Moreover, it's not your fault that you brushed up with an undercover criminal, or that this situation is even happening. But if –" Leo cut off and sighed, and Mikey recognized the tone of his voice; he was thinking really hard. "How do you know where the guy went? Are you sure you're the only one that knows?"

"I nabbed a piece of paper from him when I was trying to stop him. It had a little information on it. I'm pretty sure it's the only info there is."

"What does it say?"

Mikey took a second to take the paper out of his belt again, and unfolded it. Hesitating, he pondered if he should actually tell Leo he was heading south, but decided it didn't matter. Even if they tried to catch up with him, they didn't know where he was – and he doubted they were going to be able to make it through the FBI's security to come looking, anyway. Leo probably wouldn't even try to risk it, for Raph and Donnie's sake, either way. He said, "Indian Point plant, 2 gl. drum; H. Wren south, initiating in 20 days...he had a canister of radioactive material, which I think is the 'drum' it's talking about. That's why it's so important that I need to do this quickly, Leo. Nobody knows what they're about to do with that."

Leo sighed, sounding troubled.

"I don't know who H. Wren is, but I'm headed south, if you have to know. Also, I couldn't figure out what 'initiating in 20 days' meant."

"He took off after he got what he was after, didn't he?" Leo asked.

"Yeah," Mikey responded. "It sounds to me like he's at least gotta be somewhere in 20 days."

"Just what I was thinking," Leo agreed. "And this is just a shot in the dark, but maybe – since he has twenty days – he could've left the country?"

"...I don't know," Mikey said, skeptical. "20 days is plenty of time to do that...but I'm not sure he was planning on being able to get through airport security with a giant canister of radioactive chemicals. I just get a feeling that he hasn't gone that far..."

"I guess you're right," Leo said. "If you have a feeling about it, I'll take it. Your 'feeling-about-it's' have saved our shells more times than I can count."

Mikey grinned. "I hope I'm right; nothing about any of this is solid...who do you think H. Wren is?"

"Not sure," Leo wondered. "Maybe the guy you saw?"

"Maybe...isn't Wren kind of a girl's name, though?"

"I think so," Leo paused a second. "Wait, is 'Wren' actually capitalized on the note?"

"Huh?" Mikey looked down at the note. "Oh...no, I guess not. But what else could it mean?"

"Hard to say," Leo mused. "But if it's not a name, then that opens the door to more possibilities. Anyway, this is just a guess, but based on my own experience – if it's not a name – the first thing that comes to my mind for H is 'headquarters'."

Mikey blinked, and stared at the paper again in shock. "That would make sense," he mumbled. That gave him a little more direction – if H did stand for headquarters, then he knew he was at least going in the right direction toward what he wanted to find.

"That's just a guess, though. I'll have to talk it over with Donnie, first thing tomorrow." Leo added.

"Ok..." Mikey shoved the note back in his belt, and switched the phone to his other ear. "Other than this, I don't really have a lot of leads right now, but I have to keep moving forward. Maybe I'll find out more later – decoding 'wren' will probably help, too."

"Maybe," Leo sighed. "So you're really out of state?" He asked, a little more quietly.

Mikey thought about it for a second, wondering. New York City was so close to the state line, he wasn't sure if he'd already crossed over. The FBI had shown up, after all, so maybe he had.

Either way, he couldn't have made it very far. Now he questioned how safe he currently was even more seriously.

"Yeah," Mikey responded, looking down at his feet sentimentally. "I think so..."

"Hmmm..." Leo groaned, the idea probably as strange to him as it was to Mikey, and it didn't sit well with him; but, there was nothing he could do, not as long as Mikey kept being stubborn about where he was. There was a pause, and Mikey could tell he was thinking again, concerned about something.

After a minute, Leo continued, "Mike, if nothing else, why can't we at least come and help you?" He paused. "You know how worried we all are. We're scared for you. Why did you leave by yourself?"

Mikey sighed, too – he'd hoped he wasn't going to have to answer that question, but figured it was inevitable. "Because, Leo, this is my screw-up and I'm not gonna make you guys risk yourselves for it, _not_ like this. It's way too dangerous and I have to –"

"Mikey, don't give me that crap," Leo cut him off. "You know that's my line. Sure, this is something we've never had to go toe-to-toe with before, but honestly, none of us would give a darn if it's happening anyway – we'd _never_ just leave you all alone, not if we had to take on 50 Shredders in one night. We _won't_ ever," he said. "We're a team, Mike, but more importantly, you're our brother!"

"I-I _know,_ Leo," Mikey said, "I knew you were gonna say something like that, but I just _can't,_ ok? – I'm gonna be fine." He said, assuring the iffy fate that neither was confident of. "The _last_ thing I'm gonna do is let you guys get all tangled up in this, too, not with the FBI. I dug this hole and it's my responsibility to climb back out. A lot of people might be in danger, and I've gotta fix this. It might be a deep hole, but that's what I got into."

"I told you to quit it, Mikey," Leo persisted, impatient. "I'm proud of you for trying to take on so much responsibility, really I am – but you're being way too hard on yourself. This _isn't_ your fault – and you're making a terrible decision keeping us out of this! The threat of the FBI is _nothing_ compared to your safety! Now please, just tell me where you are, and I can be there before -"

" _NO,_ Leo!" Mikey refused, cutting him off, this time. "I don't have to tell you where I am, and I don't have to answer when you guys try to call me, either. If you can't let me go, then...I can't talk to you guys anymore until this is over."

He really hated to say it, but he had to. He told himself he'd just turn off his phone, but still, none of his emotions could back up this resolve, and he wondered if he'd really be able to. Anyway, he'd answered his phone this time because he couldn't help himself, he needed his family. Another short period of silence, and Mikey could hear Leo sigh in exasperation, trying to come back with some very frustrated argument, but unable to undermine his threat. Eventually, he said, "You know, I really hate it when you blackmail me."

Mikey sighed. "I'm not blackmailing, I'm just trying to hunt down a terrorist in the safest way possible."

Then, there was another long moment of silence. After a while, Mikey decided whether or not Leo was so frustrated he didn't wanna talk anymore, he didn't want to hear whatever else there was to say. He looked at the time – they had been talking for the better part of an hour; it was closing in on 2:00 am. He closed his eyes and moved his thumb over the "End Call" button.

As he was about to press it, he heard, "Mikey."

He paused. Slowly, he moved the phone back to his ear, and said, "Yeah..." He didn't realize how croaky his voice was going to be, miserable and tired.

"Tell me this one thing. Are you outside? Have shelter?"

Mikey huffed a little chuckle. "I'm in the back of an old truck. I drove out myself." He said, his voice scratchy.

There was a somewhat susprised pause, then Leo asked, "Can you do something for me?"

Mikey paused for a second. "I guess it depends. What?"

"...If you're gonna force all this on yourself, then fine – there's nothing we can do about it. But as long as you are, you have to do something for me. I want you to go out, find something to wrap around yourself, like a blanket or a sweater. Find some kind of store, something – I want you to steal it if you can. Alright?"

Surprised, Mikey stammered, "W-what for?"

"I want you to be warm," Leo said. "I know you left without anything but your gear. I can't imagine how miserable you are, and I know it's late and you're exhausted. But I need to know you have something to protect you from the cold. And whenever you run into trouble, whenever you're scared or upset and feeling all alone, I want you to be able to squeeze that thing tight around yourself, a hug from us. Cry into it, and think of your family that wants you back home." Leo paused. "I don't hate you, Mikey, you have to know that. None of us do, nothing could ever make us. I need to know that you're gonna at least _try_ to be careful," he said desperately, "And I need you to know that we love you, so much, and we want you back. So get something to remind yourself, to hold you for us until you get home. Can you do that for me?"

Speechless, Mikey sat there trying to think what to say. Tears slipped down his face, and almost without warning, he found himself laughing. "Leo, you made me cry again."

Leo laughed too, and all of a sudden, he heard the sound of a nose loudly blowing into a tissue. "Little Mikey, if you make big, 'fearless' Leo cry any more, we're both gonna have problems. Now go get a blanket or something for me and get some rest while I keep being a ridiculous teenage girl over here."

At that, Mikey couldn't help but burst out laughing. Usually, he was the one to always lighten the mood in his family, and helped keep his brothers from being stressed. But somehow, whenever he was upset, he could always count on them to try their darndest to find a way to make him smile again in the end. Even if it was more difficult for them, and they ended up saying something goofy. "Alright. I'll try to find something."

"Good," Leo said. "Hey, I know this has all been really hard." He said after a moment, sympathetic. "I can't imagine what level of hell you've just been through...but I really don't think you should be so hard on yourself about all of it. It sounds more to me like you were just in the wrong place at the wrong time. Even if you contributed to stirring things up a little, the FBI was already close on the guy's tail, and it seems like he was prepared to make off with all that stuff anyway." Leo laughed. "And as for Shredder, he's probably more concerned about the fact that a guy like that managed to sneak into the Foot than you blowing him out,"

Mikey giggled. "Think so?"

"I'd bet'cha," Leo affirmed. "And, you know what – the fact that you were there at all just might be what _stops_ these guys."

"I sure hope so," Mikey said, smiling sadly at the window and seeing his reflection in the dirty glass. "Well, it'd better be."

"Of course, I would've liked _all_ of us to have been there, but, y'know."

"I'm _sorryyyyyyyy,_ " Mikey groaned, getting a laugh from the other end. "I _told_ you, I know I should'a called you guys, but _Leeeeeoooooo._ "

"I know, I know." Leo laughed. "Well, forget it. What's done is done. It didn't all come crashing down because of you, though. You can't let yourself think that."

Mikey smiled. He knew it wasn't entirely his fault, but he still felt guilty. Leo's words were really encouraging, more than he knew.

"Thanks, Leo," Mikey said sincerely. "You don't know how much that helps."

"I mean every word. Don't mention it," Leo responded. "And...Mikey?" He suddenly added, sounding like a small, meek child now, almost as if he were about to sincerely ask for a cookie.

"What?" Mikey replied, extremely curious.

"Please don't cut us off," he said, sounding so pitiful it made Mikey break out into a smile again in amazed sympathy. "Please let us keep up with you, ok? We all want to know you're alright..."

"Ok, Leo," Mikey laughed, and immediately felt terrible. "I'm sorry, really bro, I won't. I know you're really worried – of course I'll keep up with you guys. I don't wanna have to do this to all of you..."

He said that, and earnestly meant it, but he knew he'd have to issue the threat again if his family pestered him about his whereabouts the whole time. It broke his heart in pieces to do it, and he wasn't sure how he'd manage to follow through with it, but it was his only weapon to fend them off and not just break down entirely and give them his satellite-precise longitude and latitude, along with a complete visual description of every Mcdonalds within six miles of him. What else could he do? He just wanted to keep them out of this.

"Just as long as I know you're alright," Leo said, relief in his voice.

"But, I can't have you guys calling me all the time – tell Donnie and Raph not to flood me every day, ok? I don't have a phone charger, and I'm gonna have to figure out how to get my hands on one. Besides, Donnie's already proven it doesn't help to have your phone ring when you're trying to be stealthy."

"Sure thing," he chuckled. "But hey, just because you won't tell us where you are doesn't mean you can stop us from trying to find out." He said, suddenly making Mikey nervous. "I don't know what you did to your phone to keep us from tracking you, but I'm telling you now that Donnie and Raph and I are gonna be working 24-7 to crack your code, you hear me? And as soon as we do, we're coming after you, and you can't do anything about it."

Mikey laughed nervously. "Alright, alright...I guess that's fair."

"What'd you _do_ to it, anyway?"

"You think I'm gonna tell you?" Mikey asked incredulously, laughing all at once. "Anyway, a magician never reveals his secrets!"

"Shoot! So close."

Both laughed again, and neither spoke for a few moments. There wasn't much left to say, and the night was tired. Frankly, Mikey figured if Leo was gonna make him go find something to warm up in, he knew he needed to go do that right now – he felt like he was about to actually fall over, he was so tired. But even with nothing to say, neither wanted to hang up. The thought of ending the call almost felt like losing each other all over again.

"I miss you a lot, Mikey," Leo said. "And I don't have to tell you how worried I am."

Mikey smiled. "I miss you too," he said, feeling bad. "I'll try to be careful, but you guys do, too. Half the reason I left was to keep the FBI away from you. It won't help if you go rushing out straight into their hands."

"Don't worry," Leo confirmed, "I'm not gonna let anyone go out for any reason unless it's necessary, and only in groups. You _better_ be careful," he said, "Or else I'm gonna come _after_ your shell, and I don't care if you _won't_ tell me where you are, 'cause I'm gonna whoop you so hard -"

"Alright, alright!" Mikey said, laughing but quivering a little with nervousness. "I said I would, already. No need to get violent."

"Good," Leo huffed, "Knucklehead."

Mikey giggled, and stretching his arms out, yawned. It sort of felt like Leo was stalling, he thought, and he chuckled. "Leo, I gotta go. If you want me to get something to warm up in tonight, anyway."

There was a pause, then Leo said, "Alright. Try not to set off any alarms."

"I'll try,"

"And please -"

"Be careful, I know." Mikey grinned.

Leo chuckled, and there was another short pause. "How's the weather over there?"

"GOODBYE, Leo."

Leo laughed, and Mikey did too. "Ok, ok. Goodnight," Leo said.

"Goodnight."

"Call me if you have nightmares!"

"GOODNIGHT LEO!"

Laughing, Mikey smashed the "End call" button with his thumb, and hearing laughter on the other end, too. Leo was one to call _him_ a knucklehead, he thought, rolling to the car door to his side and getting out.

Getting up and stretching, he suddenly realized how much better he felt. A major weight seemed to have lifted from his shoulders, now that he'd had the chance to reconnect with his family; well, part of it – and discussing the terrorist's note with his tactical-minded older brother relieved some of his stress over whether he was actually taking the right actions. With that out of the way, he had a little more confidence.

However, once he found the terrorist base, he had more to do than just "expose" it – he'd kept that much from Leo; there was no point in worrying him further. Once he found it, there would probably be some immediate action that needed to be taken; and he had a bone to pick with the first guy, anyway.

Turning to look at the old truck, he noticed the pizza delivery sign still attached to the roof. Snickering, he came closer and deftly kicked the sign off, before stashing it in a nearby dumpster. He'd feel silly driving around with that the whole time.

* * *

Finding an outlet store was mostly uneventful, actually. He did his best to stick to the shadows and creep around quietly, immediately becoming wide awake again with the new nervousness, which he inwardly groaned at and counted the minutes until he could get back into the truck, lay down and close his eyes. But all in all, for a town so close to New York City, it was really shut down now that the sun was gone – Mikey couldn't seem to get used to that. For once, night didn't mean night life. It meant rest, and most everyone here seemed to be asleep.

Finding a store and looking through the glass window, he immediately saw clothes hanging on racks for sale, and his eyes automatically went to the front door, which he knew would be locked. The store was dark and obviously closed. At first, he snuck back into a hiding place and scanned the town around him, wondering if there was possibly a similar shop that was still open – that would make it easier to sneak inside without setting anything off – but there were none to be seen, and he didn't feel like going bargain hunting.

Mikey let loose a long, exhausted sigh, and turned back to the building. _"Fine,"_ he thought.

He went around to the back. He knew from experience with his brothers that finding and unhinging smaller, closed-off openings like air vents or even windows were his best bet, but there didn't seem to be anything big enough like that back there, so he made his way to the flat roof and kept low to keep from being seen. Spotting a sealed-off door up here, he took a nunchuck out of his belt, released the blade and pried it open relatively easily.

Slipping inside, he made his way down from an attic-like area and found himself in a back room with supplies, where he could have easily and freely walked to the front counter of the store, but first found the computer in charge of the security system and cameras to momentarily switch them off.

Now, then. Mikey snuck up behind the front counter, wary of alarms he might've not found to disarm, and looked out at the array of clothes. Unfortunately, in good marketing fashion, all the womens' clothes were spread in easiest reach throughout the store, while – in not-so-great marketing fashion – the mens' section was tucked away to the side as if afraid to come out. Scanning the mens' clothes over in the dark, peering to see details, he finally made out what appeared to be casual jackets.

"Bingo," he whispered.

Taking one of his nunchucks out again, he let the chain and blade loose, aimed with a keen, trained eye, and let the chain fly across the store. The bladed nunchuk hooked onto the hanger of a jacket, and drawing upon his balance distribution and momentum techniques, yanked the chain back with the item.

Mikey caught the jacket, and set his nunchucks down. "Aw, what?" He groaned, realizing up close what he'd missed further away. Not only was this going to be too small to fit around him and his shell, but it was a _button-down_ jacket. As a general policy, Mikey hated buttons, didn't have time for them, and was _not_ about to make himself deal with them every time he put on or removed anything.

"Well, ok," he sarcastically mumbled, setting the jacket aside and picking up his nunchucks again. After taking a second to contemplate the irony of his fear of walking through the store after he'd just launched a weapon across its interior, he decided to stick to what worked so far and tried again. This time, he scanned the clothing items across the store more carefully, straining his eyes in the dark to make out details he required. Finding some bigger sizes, he threw his nunchucks out again and fished back a hooded sweatshirt.

He set his chucks down once more and looked the new top over. It looked big enough this time, thank goodness, so he took off his elbow pads and tried pulling it on to check. Almost perfect fit, with room to spare – and with his shell being relatively un-protrusive from his back, it ended up hardly showing at all, save a peek out the top and bottom, and he was definitely ok with that. It was a really simple hoodie, grey and nothing fancy, a pocket in front and a hood in back with drawstrings. The hood would help hide his face, which was going to be really important.

" _Doing good,"_ Mikey thought, and looked around the store again. As long as he was here, he decided he might as well pull together a disguise, because he had no idea how necessary it was going to be to show himself in public from here on. At the very least, he could avoid drawing attention when driving; the night sky was the only thing that had shielded him until now.

Not even bothering to try to figure out how it'd work out first, Mikey scanned for some pants. He fished over a big pair of jeans, and after taking his knee pads off and wondering for a moment, tried them on. He pulled the waist up around his shell, and immediately realized he'd need a belt – so, instead of trying to find one, he experimented with the harness already around his waist. Once he put it on over the pants, they stayed up pretty securely. Satisfied, he scanned the store one last time and yanked over a clearance snow cap with ear flaps and a scarf, and hiding the first jacket under the counter before scooping up his knee and elbow guards, he spun on his heel and started back out the same way he'd come in. Maybe later he'd find some gloves and God forbid even shoes, but right now, all he wanted to find was the back of his eyelids.

After turning the security back on, he slipped back up and out of the building, leaving very little trace of his visit behind. Once outside again, he snuck back to his truck behind the drug store, hopped into the back, shut the door, and fell over, letting the items in his arms fall to the floor. Shivering while he warmed up in the chilly night air and letting the pounding in his head begin to be soothed with sleepiness, he vaguely decided to be up in a few hours in order to get an early start before too much of the town got up and busy, grabbed the hoodie tighter around himself and drifted off.

* * *

 _-Chapter Stats-_

Location: Pennsylvania? (Shh! Don't tell the guys!)

Possessions: Weapons & gear, clothes, iPod

Money: none

Note:

 _Indian Point plant, 2 gl. drum_

 _H. wren south, initiating in 20 days_

Song: All The Little Lights (Passenger)

 **A/N:** Hope you guys enjoyed the first chapter! I consider this story (like most of mine) to take place as if the others I've written hadn't happened, so if you've read my other fics To Death And Back or Going Going Gone, don't be confused when those events aren't mentioned. However, I do like to keep certain themes cannon through my stories, like how Mikey listens to his music while skateboarding and Leo's cloak (which will show up much later in this story.)


	2. Chapter 2

_Day 2_

* * *

"I'm gonna smack him 'till his face falls off. The little twerp. Tell me where he is."

"I told you, he wouldn't tell me."

"Bullcrap, Leo!"

"I _tried_ to convince him, as hard as I could!" Leo waved a hand for emphasis. "But he said if I kept asking, he'd cut us off. Would you rather have it that way?"

Grumbling, Raph stalked off, pacing a few feet away in conflicted frustration while Leo turned to Donnie and Splinter. They looked shocked, but Leo had expected as much. After telling the story of what had happened and what was going on now, as Mikey had described it last night, the rest of his family was all but beside themselves. It seemed almost impossible that all that had happened within the scope of a few evening hours, and now their smallest was gone.

"That's...not possible..." Donnie mumbled, numbly rubbing the back of his head and looking down. "...Is he alright?"

"He said so, but after all he told me, I really don't know." Leo said, sighing.

"Oh..." Staring at his toes, Donnie wrapped his arms around himself before putting a hand to his face, sniffing. "Mikey...that idiot."

"Oh, Donnie..." Leo walked forward and pulled his little brother into a hug, and Donnie broke down into tears, burying his face in Leo's shoulder. "It's alright. He sounded like he'd made it to a safe place, so it's ok. He said he was alright." Leo said, his voice low and soothing. "He would've told me if he wasn't, right?"

"Is he gonna be ok?" Donnie croaked.

"I'm sure he's gonna be fine." He gave Donnie a squeeze, rocking him for a minute to comfort him. "Ok? We'll find him and he's gonna be fine, and we'll bring him home, safe and sound."

Watching his sons, his oldest holding his distressed second-youngest closely, and his second-oldest pacing back and forth in frustration and panic, Master Splinter sighed, troubled and worried.

Oh, his bright, smiling baby boy...how had this happened?

He went to put a hand on his hot-head's shoulder, and when Raph turned to him for comfort, he wrapped his arms around his son as he buried his face in his father's robe. Seeing them, Leo brought Donnie with him and held on tight to the two little brothers he had left, and Splinter to his three boys.

Splinter honestly didn't know what to tell them, much less anything that might comfort them; he didn't know any more than they did about his baby child. All they could do for the moment was hold one another.

After a few minutes, Raph sniffed and rubbed his nose, releasing himself from the group hug. Scrubbing away tears, he grumbled, "That little cheesepuff, as soon as I get my hands on him, e's gonna regret th'day he..."

While Raph mumbled vague threats towards their little brother to himself, Leo and Donnie exchanged upset glances, until Leo rubbed Donnie's head with a smile. "He's gonna be ok." He repeated, encouragingly and quietly. "Mikey's always handled this crazy world we live in the best."

"Yeah." Donnie agreed. "But this..."

Having released them, Splinter turned halfway from them and put a hand on his head, saying, "I feared something like this might happen someday...however, I imagined I would already have passed somewhere more peaceful, and you four would be older and more weathered for these kinds of challenges..."

Turning to their father, Leo quickly got on his hands and knees and bowed apologetically, making Splinter turn back and look in surprise. "I'm sorry, Sensei." He said, lowering his forehead to the ground. "This is all my fault. I should've made sure Mikey went with somebody so they could look out for each other. I'm responsible for his safety, and I've failed to look after him."

"Nonsense, Leonardo," Splinter said, kneeling down to help him up by the hand. Knowing the tendencies of his oldest son, he had been afraid Leonardo would start tearing himself apart over the situation. "This was not your fault, my son, you have not failed anyone. I am more than confident in your responsibility with your siblings; no one could have stopped these events, and no one could have predicted this would happen, in any scenario."

"Right," Raph said, coming back to the group. "It's the fault of that stupid, corrupt government of ours, and the FBI's bird-brained, trigger-happy workforce that can't tell a terrorist from a turtle!"

"Did you _want_ them to know he was a humanoid turtle?" Donnie asked, turning to him. "What else were they supposed to think? You heard the description – _short man in battle gear,_ considered armed and dangerous. They'd be bird-brained if they _didn't_ think he was some kind of terrorist! I'm just glad the actual truth wasn't found out."

"You think that helps Mikey out?" Raph retaliated, miffed. "He's on the run _because_ of those idiots, the FBI _and_ the terrorists! No, I don't want'em to know Mikey's a turtle, heaven forbid, but none of this was his fault, yet he gets to be hunted like a criminal. God even knows if they'll find him anyway!"

"Don't say that," Leo said, making the quarreling two stop and look at him, a little guilty. "We have to have faith in him, and hope for the best. Whether he likes to act like it, Mikey's a capable guy – and he has a lot driving him to do this. We have to trust that he can."

"Well, what are we supposed to do?" Donnie asked, looking lost. "Just sit here and wait?"

"No." Splinter spoke up again with a shake of his head, and looked at his sons. "Michelangelo told us of the note he acquired, and I believe deciphering this will help him."

"Right. And besides," Leo added, smirking in slight irritation. "We gotta get to work on de-scrambling his T-phone signal."

Donnie huffed. "What'd he _do_ to it, anyway?"

"Just what I'd like to know." Leo shrugged. "Obviously, he took out his tracker, but he did something to keep anyone from pinpointing his coordinates when he picks up a call. I noticed when I tried to track him down on your computer last night. I thought you taught him something?"

"I didn't teach him anything," Donnie said, perplexed. "Certainly not _that_...actually, I really haven't taught him _anything,_ not about the T-phones. Raph?"

"You think I know how to do that stuff?" Raph shrugged off the accusation. "But don't stare at each other all goggle-eyed like that. I can't be the only one that's seen'im tweaking his Xbox so it's all messed up every time I try to use it. He knows how to cross a couple wires."

When Raph sensed he was being stared at, he looked again to see three blank faces in reaction. "What? I'm _not_ the only one who knows, right?"

Donnie turned back to Leo, and they stared at each other in surprise. "Well, depending on how much he's done, it might take a while to de-code his phone," Donnie said, scratching his head. "Especially from a distance; I'll only be able to collect information I need during calls."

"Can we not call Michelangelo now?" Splinter asked.

"He asked us to keep it to a minimum. He doesn't have a charger right now, and he doesn't want his phone going off at any random time and giving him away." Leo said, and immediately looked vexed. "Wait a minute! Was that just an excuse?"

The other three looked around at each other blankly.

Leo sighed. "Either way, I'm gonna call him again tonight, so you guys can talk to him then – and hopefully we can start tracking him down."

Everyone nodded, though Raph looked bothered. When he noticed the other three giving him expectant looks, he gave an uneasy sigh. "Right...hey, when you were talking with Mikey...did he say _why_ he needed t'go alone so bad?" Raph paused, unsure. "I mean he's not like this. Right? Wha's he tryin'a protect us from that he thinks we wouldn't take on?"

Leo sighed, too. "That's not the issue. Mikey told me he feels responsible for everything. We all know how much of a threat the government is to us and he wanted to keep us as far from that as possible. I told him that didn't matter to us but that's when he threatened to break contact entirely." He said, casually crossing his arms. " _Clearly_ we haven't discussed what to do as a family if we _did_ face this problem."

Crossing his own arms, Raph grunted in agreement, looking thoughtfully at the floor. "Yeah..."

"That may be so, my son," Splinter said. "But I do not believe you can say you would not be doing the very same thing, in this situation."

Looking a little less sure of himself and somewhat more self-reproaching, Leo let out a small sigh and looked to the side.

"We must pray for your brother's safety while he is out on his own." Splinter continued. "But while we are working to reach him, we must also keep in mind the dangers around our own home. The government is surely taking aggressive action now, and we must tread very carefully. Whether we agree with it or not, your brother left for our safety."

Contemplating their father's words, the three of them nodded, and looked at each other for a moment.

Donnie turned. "In that case, I'm gonna go to my computer and see what I can do. Leo, I'll see if I can pull any info from your phone from the call last night. I'll call you over when I'm ready."

Each went their separate ways, Donnie to his lab, Raph to blow some steam on the training dummy, Splinter to meditate some stress away, and Leo to the couch to wait for Donnie. He sat down with a heavy sigh and leaned his elbows on his knees, staring intensely at the blank TV across from him with his fingers interlocked.

Raph's and Sensei's comments earlier had sparked some concern in his own mind. It seemed petty and ridiculous at first, and he'd quickly brushed it aside; but the thought wouldn't leave him alone.

After they de-coded Mikey's phone, what _was_ he supposed to do? Round up Raph and Donnie and barge out through the FBI after him? He had to face it – Mikey had gone through all this, taken all this risk to keep the four of them at home safe, and he said himself it would all become worthless if they just threw themselves into their enemy's hands...like Master Splinter had pointed out, they were virtually surrounded, as it was. Suddenly, as sometimes tended to happen – usually at his own expense – he realized an insight that Mikey had pointedly failed to mention. By putting himself out and keeping the government's attention focused on terrorism, not him or his family, Mikey had given them an undeniable advantage over the situation – even against the odds, they were more likely safe than not; and only with the rest of their family in mind, Leo hated to let that advantage go to waste – which Mikey had undoubtedly guessed.

Besides that, after everything he had gone through for them, if they took the risk to go after him, it would effectively serve as a blatant denial of all their little brother's sacrifices and a pretty hard slap to the face.

Leo rubbed his hands over his face with an irritated growl, troubled. What was he supposed to do, then? Just sit and hope he'd be able to do this all alone without getting killed, out of respect toward his sacrifices? He would _**NOT**_ do nothing, he couldn't, even knowing the outrageous things his little brother had done for them. He told him before and it was still just as true now – he would never abandon Mikey to the enemy, not in a million lifetimes; he wouldn't do that to any of them, he couldn't, he _wouldn't,_ there was nothing in existence that could ever stop him from using every last fiber in his being to protect his three little – Leo took a little breath to calm down. He was going after Mikey, no matter what was in the way.

He decided, then. There was only one thing he could do. Once they de-coded his phone, he'd go after Mikey himself, whether to bring him back or help him finish his mission, and ground Raph and Donnie to the lair or face his wrath. They'd understand – they'd have to. At that point, the only threat would be Leo to whatever misfortunate FBI agent who got in his way. He would be safe enough, and he was definitely going to make sure Mikey was safe, too; Raph and Donnie would be confident of that much, hopefully, so maybe he could find some way to make them stay back. Plus, he figured by then, Mikey would've bought them enough time that the FBI would've slacked off from the city a bit, and he'd probably be able to leave New York without much trouble. Mikey's sacrifices would have already served their purpose; he wasn't stepping on him in order to keep him safe. And then there was nothing that could stop him from getting to his baby brother.

Anyway, Mikey had already agreed that as long as he was out there in that much danger, it was fair that they at least tried to look for him.

" _God even knows if they'll find him anyway!"_

He sighed, putting his aching, anxious forehead to his folded hands. He just hoped he'd be able to make it in time.

"Leo, come on over here. Let's see what we can do with your phone."

Getting up, Leo made his way to Donnie's lab.

* * *

Birds chirped somewhere nearby.

Unused to the sound, Mikey finally woke up. He rubbed his eyes, yawned and stretched. Immediately the worn, softened, ragged leather seat underneath him felt uncomfortable, and already aware of everything that had happened late yesterday, Mikey groaned and wished for his own soft, comfy bed back at home as he shivered and blew out a cloud of warm breath. A pulsating ache in his head told of the lingering headache he'd managed to sleep off, and he rubbed his eyes again with a grumble before massaging his forehead, soothing the ache away.

Not wanting to get up, he tiredly laid on the seat and stared out the window across from him through slitted eyes, where warm sunlight was pouring in and a couple chirping birds could be heard outside. He listened lazily for a few minutes, focusing on the shocking peace that was the lack of a city atmosphere. He wasn't sure what he thought about it or if he actually liked it yet, but it sure was nice while he laid there resting.

What time was it?

Crap!

Bolting upright, suddenly much more awake, Mikey looked around and stared out the windows, frozen for a minute. How long had he slept? Had anyone seen him? He was behind the drug store, where he'd parked the truck last night. Being out of the way, while the chances were good that no one had probably paid attention to him, he still felt nervous. Then again, he was wearing the hoodie and the pants he'd taken, so anyone that might've caught a passing glance would have probably just thought he was a hobo. _Thank goodness_ Leo had convinced him to go get some clothes before he crashed last night, otherwise he probably would've been woken up much earlier by cops trying to break into his truck. The clothes gave him a cover that was going to be necessary, and that was proving itself very early on. A disguise was crucial.

After staring out the windows for a few more minutes and watching a few people walk by on the street across from the store, having a small column of vision around the corner, Mikey finally relaxed a little bit and decided he'd managed to luck out of a pretty obvious, lazy goof. Even with a disguise, he couldn't afford to just lay around anywhere vulnerable any more than he had to. It must've been at least somewhere around 12:00 pm already...the cops could've been called anyway to kick him off of the property. He felt like an idiot. Moaning at himself, he stretched again and started rummaging through his stuff on the floor of the back seat.

Pulling the hat on, he got out of the truck and walked to the concrete backside of another building behind the store to relieve himself, not knowing where else he was supposed to. He really wished he could brush his teeth, too; he felt nasty, but he didn't want to go inside any stores. However, when he was finished, he realized...he really needed to poop.

"...Rats..." Mikey mumbled, looking around. He kept glancing between the back of the store and the alley he was in, and with a sigh, he finally decided he really couldn't just go number two on public property. But how did he get to a bathroom? He felt _way_ too self-conscious to go inside the store. Even with the clothes and being able to hide his hands in his sleeves, his feet and upper face didn't have enough cover. At least it was still cold enough out that he didn't seem so strange all bundled up, but he was still extremely nervous about standing out.

" _Come on Mikey,"_ he thought to himself. _"You're gonna have to start doing this anyway. Why do you think you need the disguise in the first place? Man up, it's just a drugstore, nobody's gonna be paying attention to you."_

Mustering up some courage, he went back to his truck and took the keys out of the ignition slot and grabbed his scarf before going. Wrapping the scarf around his neck and the lower part of his face, he decided to slip his mask off at the last minute or else catch someone's eye with the bright color, so he took it off and stuffed it in the hoodie pocket with his keys before nervously rounding the building and skittering inside.

" _I need sunglasses, I need sunglasses, I need sunglasses,"_ he feverishly thought to himself, constantly turning his face away from everyone he saw as he quickly looked around the store for the bathroom. There were only a couple people nearby browsing some products, but they barely spared him a glance. Spotting the bathroom, he hurried over and ducked inside.

He rushed inside a stall and leaned against the wall with a relieved sigh before moving to the toilet. That was something else he was going to need, apparently – sunglasses. He felt like his face was way too exposed, even with the scarf. But he had no money...

With a gulp, he remembered the other obvious problem he'd shoved in the back of his head, but knew he'd encounter eventually. How was he going to get gas for the truck?

Well, there was really no way to figure that out right now. Once he was finished, he washed his hands and left the bathroom, peeking around to make sure nobody was looking first. Hesitating, he went toward one of the back isles to see if they had something he was looking for.

After a bit of searching, he realized this place didn't sell car-adaptable phone chargers; he figured he'd more likely find those at a gas station anyway. However, they _did_ have toothbrushes and toothpaste, and crackers - and he was getting really hungry.

" _What do I do? Beg for some free toiletries and crackers in exchange for a jig?"_ Mikey inwardly groaned, longingly gazing at the hygiene products and delicious, plastic-wrapped goodness. As he was just deciding to leave, something popped into his head from the night before.

" _Find some kind of store, something – I want you to steal it if you can. Alright?"_

Leo had told him that, although he was talking about the clothes, and surely neither were comfortable with stealing anyway; it was wrong. But somehow, his leader's previous permission supported his suspicion that stealing was going to have to become something he did for a little while just to survive, and Leo obviously understood that. They all probably did. It was ok, right? He had no other way of getting necessities right now, and he didn't feel like starving in the name of corporate law, which he didn't consider too highly anyway.

He didn't like it, but he didn't really have a choice. Looking around again as discreetly as he could, also scanning which direction security cameras were facing, he started walking away to disguise what he was doing as he secretly slipped a toothbrush, a tube of toothpaste and a plastic-covered pack of crackers in his hoodie pocket. He quickly made his way back to the bathroom with the items.

Once inside again, he made sure no one else was in the bathroom before taking out and opening up the toothbrush and toothpaste. Pulling down the scarf, he brushed his teeth at the sink, feeling exceedingly grateful for the fresh, clean feeling. He cupped water in his hands from the faucet to rinse, slipped the items back in his hoodie pocket and hurried out of the bathroom, his nerves on edge and nervous adrenaline coursing through his body.

He held his breath as he forced himself to casually walk out the drugstore door, somehow paranoid that some kind of alarm would go off in recognition of the stolen items, or a clerk would suspiciously call him back inside – but nothing happened, so he breathed a sigh of relief as he rounded the store to his truck again.

" _Wicked!"_ Mikey thought, pulling everything out of his hoodie pocket with a smile. He climbed into the front seat of the truck, took the scarf off and slipped his mask back on before sorting through his treasures. He felt excited now, hyped up by successfully pulling off an illegal act without getting caught, almost like a ninja or something.

The crackers he'd snatched were the universal, find-them-anywhere Lance brand, and he'd managed to grab some kind of Jalapeno flavor instead of regular. At first disappointed, he figured he might as well give them a go, all for trying new things. He was about hungry enough that he didn't care either way. Opening up a pack, he popped one in his mouth as he started the car.

"...Not bad," he mused, taking out a few more individual packs before tossing the box and his scarf into the backseat. "A little strong for breakfast, though. Or is this lunch?"

Not knowing where to put the toothbrush, he finally, reluctantly settled on the plastic wrap of the crackers, and finished off a pack so he could somewhat disgustedly slip the toothbrush inside the plastic, trying to ignore the leftover crumbs he couldn't shake out. He put his toothbrush and the toothpaste in the back seat with his other stuff.

With a sigh, he dug the terrorist note out of his pocket and skimmed back over to refresh his memory about what he and his brother had discussed last night, munching on a cracker.

 _Indian Point plant, 2 gl. drum_

 _H. Wren south, initiating in 20 days_

"If I were a terrorist organization, where would I hide?" He mumbled sarcastically. All he still really knew was that he needed to head south. How far, nobody seemed to know; but he needed to believe he'd find more info later. His brothers were going to help him decipher the note, and maybe that would give him more direction. For now, he figured he needed to make some headway, at least, so hopefully he'd end up being closer when they found out more. Wishing he had a map, he glanced about to suddenly realize one was stuffed into a compartment on the side of the driver's door.

" _This was being used as a pizza delivery truck, after all,"_ Mikey realized, taking it out and unfolding it. His heart dropped when he saw it was only a zoomed-in map of New York City, but flipping it around and unfolding it a little, he relaxed when he saw the entire east coast in detail. He'd never really paid a whole lot of extra attention to the country surrounding New York, and took the time now to look things over with interest.

After intensively scanning the area he predicted he'd been when he left last night and wracking his brain to remember the name of the highway, he managed to locate his exact position when he saw a nearby sign that had the name of the town – Alexandria – and matched it to the map, determining he needed to backtrack a little to get on i-95, which would take him south. He had already left the state of New York, after all, and was officially in Pennsylvania – despite the circumstances, he was a little excited about that fact alone. Doing his best to remember the route, he folded the map into a smaller section to handle better while he was driving, and pulled out from behind the drug store.

Now he was thirsty...

.

.

.

Mikey drove for a few hours, doing his best to learn and abide by traffic laws and remember the controls in the truck, and after a little while, he started feeling like he was getting the hang of it. By watching other people, he learned some common protocol about driving, and how to interact with certain settings and situations. Even out of the city, signs still confused him a bit, though – whenever he found signs with street names, he could barely tell which one he was on or what he was about to turn onto, the way they were all crisscrossed around and seemingly placed randomly at intersections. Also, after a little while, he officially decided the highway signs made no sense and were purely posted to troll people. He wasn't necessarily looking for the highways the signs pointed toward, but he found that many times, they seemed to direct him to highways that never ended up being there, but were always somewhere else entirely. Maybe it was just him...

He really couldn't focus on his irritation so much, though, when he was gawking out the windshield at the wide-open sky before him. Cluttered by skyscrapers and tall buildings and clouded over with artificial light or smog, he never generally paid much attention to the sky in New York, even when he was running on the rooftops; but now, it seemed like there was nothing in the way of the bright, light blue and the fluffy clouds in the air; it felt so open and free. It seemed like there were so many trees around, too, even though he was barely a few hours from the city – he wasn't used to that. The fact that he knew he was in another state just seemed to add more glamour – it almost felt as if he'd stepped out into a completely different world. He wondered if all the states were like this.

Just for occasion's sake, he dug out his T-phone and snapped a picture of the sky, grinning.

After traveling down i-78 until it joined with i-95, which he thankfully found pretty easily, he hopped on only to jump back off at a rest stop almost immediately afterwards, really thirsty and kind of sore from sitting. Once he refreshed himself at a water fountain and pulled his scarf back up, he wondered if he could manage to scrape together enough quarters to buy a water bottle to take with him. When he found none in the truck or lying around, he begrudgingly decided to dig a bottle out of a trash can, but as soon as he found one, even though it looked relatively ok, he was too grossed out and just put it back again. Even washing it out wouldn't make him feel any less nasty using it.

He might steal one, but there were only vending machines at the rest stop. With a sigh, he put a dime he'd found in his pocked, keeping a sharp eye out for loose change wherever he could. Whatever he could scrape together into his pocket was probably all he'd have for a while.

.

.

He continued to drive on i-95 for a few hours, coming close to Philadelphia, and started worrying again about gas. The fuel gauge was starting to tip below the halfway point, so he was getting a little nervous.

Making money was not a new concept to him, nor his brothers. Things were always super tight at home, and his family was used to picking up every bit of change they managed to find. Besides building many of the functional items in their home, Donnie was able to hack into whatever services they might want to use, and they'd all contributed with a little online work for some pay before, so they generally didn't have any actual financial concerns but food and groceries, which always tended to be the biggest financial issue; but really, it was never that much of a problem anymore, not since he and his bros had started helping their dad with money.

But gas? Huge, regular, 40-dollar gasoline expenses were not on their normal spending list, and frankly, as little as they always got just scraping leftovers together for the family, Mikey had no idea how to go about making that much. Real money was earned; and it was especially hard to do that when he couldn't be seen, and didn't have internet access.

He didn't want to have to abandon the truck if he could help it, all the same. Maybe once he got to Philadelphia, he'd be able to find out something he could do for money – he always saw rainbows of different talents street performers would use to fund themselves, and he wondered if that would work as well in Philadelphia. While he knew it probably wouldn't look like New York, he really didn't know how different the two cities were.

There wasn't a whole lot more time to think about it, however, because soon he noticed a cop that had been behind him for a little while now had a buddy. Wary, when he discreetly glanced at his rear-view mirror at them, he suddenly realized that they were definitely focusing on him, and seemed to start communicating with each other through the radios in their cars.

Suddenly extremely on edge, Mikey wished he could grab his scarf, but it was in the backseat – he wasn't as concerned about them seeing his face unless they ran him down, however. With getting pulled over in mind, he changed lanes to see if they would go around him, but they followed over. In that case, since he wasn't at the speed limit, he sped up a little in order to safely pass and pull back over in front of another car, hoping to get them off his tail. As he was attempting this, however, he heard the dreaded _bwoop_ sound, and saw the red and blue lights on the leading police car light up and spin.

 _Oh. No._

He hadn't broken any laws, and the truck was surely up-to-date on everything; he was positive of that. He'd even used his turn signals. It was for something else, and Mikey was sure that it was because they found him suspicious.

There was only one way out of this, and his heart began to race while his mind immediately started hysterically pleading with alternatives when he came to this conclusion.

He had no other choice, though. He couldn't afford to be pulled over – especially since he wasn't confident enough about his disguise. Another couple _bwoop_ 's and both cops following close behind drove him to action.

" _Master Splinter better not hear about this."_

Seeing another opportunity, he quickly sped around another car and pressed harder on the gas, trying to lose them. Immediately, both police cars' sirens went off, and the chase had begun.

It all happened so fast – Mikey's heart was pounding frantically and his mind was all a frazzled buzz as he weaved around other cars, he and the cops rather quickly catching up to 140 mph. The truck hitched and protested at the ridiculous speeds at first, but the old workhorse faithfully followed his commands through with a roaring torrent of strength and steady acceleration.

Seeing a 16-wheeler, he veered around it, dove back in front of it and immediately took an exit, hoping the large truck would hide him from view long enough to let him slip out from under the cops. It worked, as the cops sped by the exit on the highway - he gasped and slammed the brakes to slow down fast enough on the exit ramp, praying thanks that nobody was in his way. Screeching down to speed and leaving skid marks behind him, his racing mind flashed an idea before him and he veered left before turning right, leading anyone who followed the skid marks in the other direction. He turned onto the road he'd come to and quickly entered the parking lot of a shopping strip, squeezing his truck into a crowd of others in a parking space and quickly entering a dollar store, taking his scarf and removing his mask.

Once inside, he finished tucking the scarf in around his face and walked over to an isle without anyone else in it, keeping a lookout for other shoppers, and stared out the store window. He didn't see any sign of the pursuing cops, but he was sure they were still looking for him, and had definitely called in back-up already. He felt way too scared to go out now, and even disguised in a crowd of other cars and trucks, the fact that his truck's license plate was facing outward made him paranoid. The cops had undoubtedly tagged it.

He gave a ragged, nervous sigh and pretended to calmly browse the items in the isle while giving nervous glances out the window to keep watch, trying to keep away from other shoppers and attempting to still his shaking hands. What was that all about? Sure, if somehow, in his escape from New York, suspicion had come up that a suspect terrorist had been the one to steal the pizza truck, and cops in the surrounding areas had gotten a tip about its appearance, they might've wanted to question him, but how likely was that? And New York would be telling them he was in a pizza delivery truck, but he'd taken off the sign. The police system back there would probably be too backed up right now for the poor, nice pizza guy he'd stolen it from to turn in an acknowledged report about it anyway. Plus, he had been on the highway this whole time, and hadn't seen a single cop until they started following him. He was following all the traffic laws, as far as he knew. Maybe he'd accidentally done something? No, he was sure it wasn't for that. What, then?!

He needed to calm down, and these other people in the store were making him nervous. He quickly located the bathroom, and going inside, he scooped some big gulps of water into his mouth and splashed his face from one of the faucets; he was super thirsty from nervous sweat. After that, he spent a good 30 minutes in one of the stalls to see if he could wait the initial chase out without being found.

.

.

Once he finally decided to leave the bathroom, he was almost too scared to. Making himself make a cautious exit, he looked around, and immediately looked out the window for his truck. It was still there, same as before. A few people had left from the area he'd parked, but he considered it still fairly blended in. Apparently the cops lost track of him after he'd found a busy hiding place so quickly. He sighed, knowing he was out of immediate danger. Although, every aspect about driving anywhere was a terrifying idea right now, and he wondered what he was supposed to do next.

He checked his T-phone. It was 7:32 pm, and the light was fading outside. He was really hungry...and he was positive that highway chase had his truck all but running on its last fumes. At least, while he still believed he might possibly be able to start it again, he needed to find a better hiding spot for it so he would be able to figure out how to get gas later. Moaning, he looked to his side and decided to look for some last supplies he needed in the dollar store first. He had to prioritize, though – he could only take what would fit in his clothes.

Mainly for the sake of security cameras, in order to look like he was doing something, he first headed over to the hair care isle to pick up a bottle of shampoo – looking for things and snatching them along the way. On the way to the isle, using his well-trained ninja skills, he found and secretly grabbed a pair of sunglasses, slipping them in his hoodie pocket. Making it to the shampoo, he picked up a bottle as if considering it, but of course, no one was paying enough attention to realize there was no hair under his hat.

Next, taking the bottle with him, he took a round-about path to the medicine/vitamins section, locating – to his pleasant surprise – a phone charger hanging on a rack with other tech accessories, and he walked through that isle to inconspicuously snatch it on his way, also slipping it in his hoodie pocket.

After this, he passed through an isle with a lot of snacks, and snuck a pack of muffins in with the rest, transferring the sunglasses to his pants pocket. Once in the medicine isle, he walked to what he personally called the "natural-hippy-alternatives" section, and picked up another vaguely related, "natural" and "chemical-free" hair-care item, as if comparing the two. He gave a couple comical, sarcastic nods of the head, rubbing his chin with appropriately matching impressed expressions solely as a joke to himself before putting both items back on the same shelf, rolling his eyes and walking away.

Successfully leaving the store with all these new, stolen items, he felt even more like a dirty sneak. He sadly got back into the truck to examine what he'd taken this time, putting the muffins and sunglasses in the passenger seat while he unpackaged the phone charger. At least, even without gas, he had a secure line of connection to his family now, which managed to cheer him up a little. He stuck the charger in the cigarette lighter port and plugged his phone in, which was half dead.

Telling himself the bulk of all this stealing only needed to be done now, while he collected necessities, he put the keys in the ignition and hopefully cranked up the gas. The truck tried to rev up but wouldn't start soon enough, and not wanting to flood it, Mikey cut the engine. Pausing for a second, telling himself to try again before he panicked, he cranked the gas again, and this time the truck came to life. He sat back in his seat with a sigh of relief, and looked at the fuel gauge. Sure enough, according to the gauge, he had already run out of gas, so he was obviously running on minimal amounts. He quickly started looking all around to try and figure out where he could put his truck, thinking he should have found a spot before he turned it on.

Discovering he could go behind the buildings of the shopping strip, he drove around and found that there were luckily very few cars back here – only those of employees – and plenty of parking spaces, along with a couple delivery trucks. If he was unlucky enough to get questioned by any employees or something, he could try saying he was there helping with a delivery and maybe the person would be dumb enough to believe him.

He found a nice parking space tucked away next to a dumpster, and probably for the last time in a while, cut the engine again. Sitting back with another sigh, he stayed still for a moment, letting his mind wander and wondering what he was going to do now.

After a little while, he took the map from the passenger seat and tried to determine where he'd ended up. Tracing his finger southward on i-95, which had turned into i-295, when he found the place he'd most likely exited, he discovered he'd barely made it to the very outskirts of Philadelphia, and was most likely in a nearby area called Moorestown. He hadn't quite made it to the city. As close as it was, this place he was in now was nothing even distantly similar to New York City...the vast majority of ideas he'd had for making money were now dashed, and he wondered how he'd collect enough for gas. How much did he even need? This truck guzzled gas like a monster, so compared to what Donnie said the Shellraiser would take if they didn't have other power sources, he knew it could end up being a lot, even with the truck being a fraction of the size.

He knew one thing for sure, though – for all the stealing he'd done so far, he was _not_ about to start robbing for money. If he were ever going to get his hands on actual cash, it'd be by making it on his own.

He felt uncomfortable...being stuck here while the police were sniffing around for him. He still wasn't sure what'd initially set them off about him, but maybe he could do something to help keep disguised. If he found a thick black marker, he was sure he could alter some of the numbers on the license plate...he knew that was REALLY illegal, but he wasn't sure being a convicted criminal and hunting down an extremely dangerous felon while already dodging the legal system didn't outweigh that.

No...maybe he shouldn't. An altered license plate might just attract all the more unwanted attention, even if he was tagged.

Then again, if he _was_ tagged, every police system in the whole country probably had a file on him, and every cop he saw would be a chance to get shot out of the sky.

Forget it all, he had no idea and couldn't think about it. Mentally, emotionally and physically exhausted, sluggishly wishing for a bottle of water, Mikey opened the pack of muffins, scarfed one down, checked the time on his phone – it was 8:15 – and dozed off.

.

.

He awoke sometime later to his phone ringing, and he picked it up to see Leo was calling again for the day. Looking at the time, he saw it was now a little past 9:00 pm. His tired brain realizing suddenly that he'd probably not only have to explain what happened today, but might talk with the rest of his family for the first time since he'd been gone – which did give him an enormous amount of relief and made him happy – he groaned and rubbed his eyes worriedly, and hesitated before finally answering. As much as he was dying to hear their voices, Leo had undoubtedly told them everything that had happened, and he was nervous.

"Hello?"

"Mikey!" Came Leo's voice, and his evident happiness instantly melted some of his stress away. "How are you? How did things go today?"

Mikey hesitated a second before laughing. "It's, eh, kind of a long story...how are you guys doing?" He wearily smiled.

Noting that, he responded, "We're alright. We've been working on that note you told me about, but we haven't made a lot of progress yet. It's just the first day, though – we'll get somewhere before you know it." Sounding slightly more concerned, he asked, "What's your 'long story'?"

"Well," he started, suddenly unsure how much he could tell him. No, it was probably ok – if anything, his unspoken decision to stop using highways from now on only meant it would be even harder for the others to find him if they tried, even knowing he'd been on the highway. Well...maybe that would be more true if he weren't stranded, but they still didn't know where. "I was on i-95 today."

"Mikey..." Leo started. He was probably about to bolt over to the Stealth Bike, and was trying to confirm if he'd really just been given a location pointer. He could hear Raph and Donnie in the background, telling Leo to let them talk to him, but Leo hushed them.

"Don't bother," Mikey said, dousing his brother's impulse to dash out the lair. "I'm not there anymore. Far from it," he lied. He was actually literally right next to it, the back of the shopping strip facing the highway. "Sorry..."

Leo sighed, and recognizing Mikey had been willing to give that much away to explain what happened, became a little more concerned. "So what happened, then?"

"Well, I don't know _why_ it happened," he explained, "But I had a run-up with some cops. They just randomly started following me on the highway and tried to get me to pull over. I didn't break any laws and the truck's up to date – I don't know why they did it, and that worries me. I couldn't afford a confrontation with the cops – I can't – so I...might've tried to outrun them."

There was a small moment of silence, before Leo exclaimed, "You _what?!_ "

"What's he sayin'? Gimme the phone!" He heard Raph demand somewhere nearby, and Leo brushed him off again.

"There was a chase. We were going really fast," Mikey said, the upset from the event suddenly coming back, but he did his best to hide it. "I managed to duck around a 16-wheeler and lose them on an exit ramp. I got away and I've been hiding, and they haven't found me but the truck is out of gas. Right now –" he paused, before continuing, "I'm not...totally sure what to do."

There was another pause on the other end as Leo groaned, his voice filled with obvious, agonized worry. Mikey could imagine him putting his hand to his face, trying to make himself stop imagining all the worst-case scenarios. Suddenly, though, there was a scuffle, and Raph's voice came on. "Mikey! You there?"

"Hey Raph," he said, grinning with relief. With all the stress, he was really happy to hear another big brothers' voice.

"Mike, what've you gotten yourself into now? Leo's all freakin' out and tryin' to take the phone back. Oof! Shove off, Leo! Mikey, what happened? By the way, you're a big, stupid goofhead and your brain is made of cheese!"

Mikey couldn't help but laugh. "I love you too, Raph,"

"Donnie, the crap!-" Raph's voice cut off.

"Mikey! Mikey, is that you?" Came Donnie's voice, this time.

Mikey laughed again, happiness bubbling over at the re-connection to his brothers. " _Hello,_ Donnie."

"Oh, Mikey, thank goodness. Are you ok? I'm sorry, but Raph's got a point – what were you thinking, running off like this?"

He sighed. "I thought I'd be able to take a nice roadtrip, get some time away, enjoy the view. Y'know, a little vacation or something." He sarcastically replied, unable to stop from feeling just the slightest bit bitter. "Hey, you guys need to at least take turns or something –"

"Guys, cut it out!" Leo's voice came, amidst lots of scuffling and grunting. "You're going to make him mad!"

"Make _him_ mad? You've hogged the phone this whole time! Let us talk to'im for a change!"

"Quit it you two, I'm trying to talk with Mikey!"

Now there was a lot of static and struggling on the other end, as if they had started fighting over the phone. Nervous, Mikey waited while his overprotective, burly big brothers struggled over who got to speak with him. Even with all the struggling going on on the other side, Mikey smiled, feeling suddenly very warm inside. He missed his brothers so bad; it made him so happy hearing them all again, being their usual selves. He felt a lot better.

"You're gonna bust it! Just put him on speaker!" Leo eventually barked. Soon, the scuffling stopped, and Mikey could hear all three of them.

"You guys call _me_ a knucklehead." He chuckled.

"What was all that you were tellin' Leo?" Raph asked. "He was upset, like somethin' happened."

"Yeah! Is everything alright?" Donnie pleaded.

"He said he was on the highway, and got into a chase with some cops. The truck's broken down, but he said he got away." Leo briefed.

"He what!" Raph exclaimed.

"Are you kidding –"

"Are you alright, Mikey?" Leo asked.

"I'm fine," he responded, feeling terrible for his worried family. Maybe, he hoped, after a few days, his phone calls wouldn't be so extremely concerning and disaster-ridden.

Suddenly thinking of Master Splinter, he thought about asking where he was – he wanted to talk to him, too, but maybe he wasn't at home, since he wasn't already on the phone with them.

"Mikey..." Donnie started, but hesitated before finally, carefully trying, "Please..."

"I'm sorry...I can't tell you." Mikey responded sadly, and sighed. "I've got this...I'm ok. I gotta keep trying to move forward..." He said, still refusing to give up his location. "I just had a little – scare today. But everything's gonna be ok. I promise,"

Donnie sighed, too, and by his computer where the three of them were gathered, he exchanged looks with Raph. They knew their little brother had no intentions to change his mind. But why he wouldn't was harder to understand.

"Are you sure you're alright?" Leo asked.

"I'm sure," he chuckled. "I told you I managed to get away."

"Don't mean he can't still worry," Raph interjected. "That's what he does best, you know."

"For once, Raph, I think you and I can agree on something." Leo said, and everyone cracked up.

"That bein' said, I was right about one thing, though. Your brain _is_ made'a cheese, Mike." Raph continued. Somehow, even though he didn't sound particularly mad, the tone suddenly changed a little more serious and Mikey was picking up some angry vibes from his older brother. "You bonehead, what were you thinkin'? You know, you're _real_ lucky you ain't some mess of twisted-up steel or a bloody scrape on the highway!"

" _Raph,_ " Leo agonized.

"He's right. Thank God you're ok," Donnie sighed. "Don't you know what a miracle it is you made it out of that alive? You should've pulled over and just tried to out-run them. You know we're faster than people,"

"Sorry, next time I'll pull over and give them my ID," Mikey exclaimed, a little miffed. "What was I supposed to do? I didn't want to get out and run, they might've had guns. Besides, I don't want them to see me!"

"Well, why were they after'ya anyway?" Raph asked.

"I have no clue," Mikey replied, rubbing his arm. "I don't know if they're on the lookout for me since I left New York, but I didn't think they knew what car I had. Maybe they're monitoring highways like i-95."

"i-95? That's where you were?" Donnie said, and paused for a second. "That may explain some of it...you know, i-95 probably isn't the best highway to take if you're trying to go unnoticed."

"Was' wrong with it?" Raph asked, taking the words out of Mikey's mouth.

"It runs along most of the east coast; it's somewhat notorious for people using it to smuggle drugs across the states, particularly north-bound – cops are usually posted around there to screen for people that look suspicious, so if they got a glimpse of Mikey, they'd probably try to run him down, no matter which way he was going. Especially with everything that's been going on, I'm not surprised they picked you out."

"Seriously?" Mikey exclaimed, putting his hand to his face. He felt awful now. Sick, scared. Maybe they just thought he was a drug lord, that wasn't so bad. But he was especially nervous about his truck being flagged if they thought he was a terrorist, and him flying off and putting everyone on high alert probably didn't help their opinion of him. There was a short moment of silence as he stressed about this. If he was caught, he was sure now it'd mean serious consequences. But he was just parked here, unmoving. This stupid truck! He felt like kicking the dashboard. Why did it have to be so big and old and gas-guzzling and stupid?!

"What happens now?" Leo asked. "You said you were broken down. Are they looking for you?"

"I...I got away and found a place to hide, like I said," he replied, swallowing his anxiety to try to keep it out of his voice. "I guess they're still looking for me...but I'm pretty well out of sight, and I just need gas and I'll be out of here. I just...don't really know how to get it, yet. I'm not taking highways anymore, though." He glanced over at the highway as he told them he was out of sight, ignoring it. Bushes hid him well enough from any cops looking from there.

"Probably a good idea." Raph concurred. "Why don'cha just ditch the truck? You could sneak onto different vehicles and jus' hitch a ride. Ain't no use sitting there because you don't have gas."

"I don't wanna do that," Mikey said. "Even if I try to be all stealthy, it'll be so much harder trying to hitchhike without getting caught. And anyway, I really don't know where I'm going," he added. "If I can help it at all, I'd like to have a bit of independence until I've got a better idea of where I'm headed."

"Suit yourself," Raph huffed. "But that don't put gas in the tank."

"I know," Mikey moaned. "I just need money...you guys wouldn't know how to make any on the go, would you?"

There was a short moment of unsure silence, before Donnie spoke up. "Well, I don't suppose you're going to get any tips unless you beg, unlike in New York City, the capital of street performers." He stated, humming with heavy thought. "How big is the truck?"

"Think very old rhinoceros."

Donnie chuckled at this. "Pretty big, huh?" He said, and thought about it. "Well, if it's on the larger side, it could hold up to 25-30 gallons." Donnie said. "Based on New York City's gas prices, anyway, to fill it up, you could be talking upwards of $50."

"Really..." Mikey deflated.

"Somewhere in that range, anyway. Even if you found a way to make money, I really don't know if you should hold out for making that much in such a short amount of time. Since you're headed south, prices will probably drop a little – but for somebody who doesn't have any money anyway, it's still a big chunk, no matter how you look at it."

"No joke," Mikey said. This wasn't looking any better. He was stuck here being hunted, and Donnie was right – it really wasn't logical thinking he could make that much money come out of nothing. He didn't know why a cop would come back behind the shopping strip where he was, but he could be seen or reported any number of ways. "I've been worried that the police here might report me for terrorism," He finally said. "I'm afraid if they have the license plate number...I don't know if I should try drawing on it? You know, to change some of the numbers."

"No way!" Donnie immediately interjected. "Do you know how illegal that is? You'd get caught for sure."

"I _know_ how illegal it is," Mikey irritably responded, "But I wasn't sure whether they'd catch me _faster_ driving around with a fraud plate or a tagged plate."

"Hopefully they won't catch you at all," Leo offered, "But I have to go with Donnie on this one. You're in a unique situation, but somehow I feel like you'd get in trouble faster for defacing the license plate."

"I don' know, Mike, but I'm goin' with the majority of the court, here." Raph finally agreed. "Sounds sketchier drawing on it to me, too. Ah, no pun intended."

"Well, what do you want me to do?!" He asked, increasingly frazzled. "I can hardly figure out where I am on a map, and that's as far as my knowledge goes about this place! Where the heck am I supposed to be able to safely walk around in the middle of daylight looking for a ride?! I can't just sit here forever waiting to be taken in or shot! Because if I just sit here, _I'm gonna get taken in or shot!_ "

"Hey, now, just calm down." Leo soothed. "You don't know that they tagged your license plate. If the chase happened like you say it did, they might not have even gotten a chance to. And I assure you, you're probably not the only one they've tried to run down since all this started. You said you found a place to hide, so you're ok. Nobody's going to take you in, or – shoot you."

"Yeah. An' while I still suggest tryin' to hitchhike if you don't find some soon," Raph said, "Everybody wants gas. I know there must be a way to work around to gettin' some for yourself, even without money. Heck, Donnie powers the Shell Raiser with alien crystals – there's gotta be a way."

"You'll be fine," Donnie chipped in. "Like Raph said, gas isn't the be-all end-all here. Maybe an even better option will come along. And like Leo said, as long stay you stay hidden and keep patient, you'll be safe."

"Right..." Mikey sighed. Feeling a little less anxious, he crawled in the backseat and used the scarf to pillow his head, tired.

"Still, while you're doing that, please try to be careful with the cops around, if you're going to be there for a while." Leo added. "For my sake if nothing else,"

"You wouldn't want daddy Leo to be worried, would'ya?" Raph jeered, grunting an "oof" when he apparently received a jab.

Mikey giggled. "I'll try, Leo. Oh – I already found a phone charger, just so you know, but we should still try to keep calls to once a day. I don't know what kind of spying and sneaking around I'm gonna have to be doing, and we probably shouldn't talk while I'm driving, either."

"Alright," Leo consented. "Hey, did you find a blanket or something?"

"I found some clothes," he said, grinning. "And a hoodie, like you said. They've come in handy already."

"What's he need that for? I mean, you tell'im to get a disguise?" Raph asked.

"Yeah, but also for comfort's sake, and a good luck charm, hopefully." Leo said. "I knew he was gonna be focusing on trying to get food, and I wanted him to be warm. Plus, I thought it might give him a little encouragement, for the rainy days."

"That's a good idea," Donnie mused. "Speaking of food, how has that gone for you, Mikey?"

He hesitated. "I found a couple stores, and took some things I needed. I've managed to get some muffins and a box of crackers," he said, "along with a couple other things. I can't seem to get a water bottle without it being obvious, though. I'm so thirsty..." He sighed. "I don't like stealing...I don't want to, but I've had to steal so much already. I wish I could at least pay for stuff..."

"Hey, don' you worry about it," Raph cut in, almost with a scolding tone to his voice. "If they knew what you were doing, they'd hand over every stupid water bottle in the store. You gotta do what you gotta do, and ain't nobody blaming ya' for it. If anybody's got a problem, I'll come kick their butts for you."

"He's right," Leo agreed. "I know you must feel uncomfortable about it, but for now, there's just nothing that can be done. That's fine. You need the supplies, and stealing food and necessities here and there kind of stops mattering when you're doing it to protect the entire country. There's no point in feeling bad."

"What they said," Donnie put in. "They would be grateful, if they knew. If you're trying to get a water bottle, don't worry too much about being noticed. Especially with small convenience stores, they're probably not paying much attention to that footage, anyway. Besides, it's _water._ What are they gonna do?"

"You're probably right," Mikey said. "Maybe I'll go try to get one before the store closes..." He mumbled, looking thoughtfully at the building. "Oh, how much progress have you guys exactly made on the note, by the way?"

"We've been working on it most of the day," Leo said. "Donnie's been looking up the term 'Wren' in association with terrorist activity, but it's hard to find that kind of stuff without hacking into places."

"I haven't found out anything that seems significant," Donnie said. "Especially nothing happening in 20 days. Whatever's going on then, it's definitely a secret."

"I'll keep an eye out," Mikey said. "That's all the info I've got, but maybe I can pick up something else. Have you been watching the news?"

"I've been keepin' an eye on it," Raph said. "They ain't said nothing new than what they already said yesterday. 'Parently they haven't caught the other guy yet, either."

"Figures," Mikey sighed, closing his eyes. Of course, while that told him he was still tracking the guy down, it started to feel like he'd just disappeared. It had only been about two days, but somehow, he wished _something_ new might have come up. If the media couldn't come up with anything new and the case started going cold, it would feel more to him like he was just chasing his own tail.

"Hey, don't get down about it. You know as well as I do the media don't know crap half the time," Raph said. "You just keep that optimism of yours, a'right? I'll tell you if anything new pops up."

"Ok," Mikey said with a grin, and yawned. "I know you guys aren't happy with any of this. But I'm really grateful you're helping me out...you have no idea how much trouble I'd have without you. Plus, it makes me feel better knowing I'm not totally on my own out here."

"Hey, we're still coming after you as soon as we get the chance," Leo retorted, making Mikey chuckle. "Of course we're helping you. That's what we want to do anyway."

"I'd just rather you do it from the lair." Mikey smiled.

"You can't tell us what to do!" Raph shouted.

"Fine," Mikey laughed. "But I bet you can't beat me to their hideout!"

"Hey, we'll see about that!" Donnie said. "Challenge accepted!"

Everyone shared a laugh, but an awkward silence ensued. Coming close again to the subject they were all subconsciously avoiding, the mood dampened slightly and Raph and Donnie bit their tongues to do whatever it took to stop themselves from repeating the same argument he and Leo undoubtedly had just last night. As much as they wanted to immediately bombard him with all the looming questions for themselves, they knew it wouldn't do any good – and Mikey probably wasn't up for round two at the moment.

He'd never done this before and Mikey knew they were worried. He hoped egging them all on would soothe some of their nerves that they would, in fact, get him back eventually – their insistence that they'd track him down in no time made him a little worried, though.

He considered ditching his phone entirely, but immediately tossed the thought away. They needed each other now more than ever, even if keeping up with them meant getting discovered.

"...Well, how's driving that old clunker been?" Raph suddenly asked. "I hope you didn't get Leo's sucky driving gene. - _Ouch!_ "

"You deserved that."

"Guys," Mikey chided, trying not to laugh. "Ok, it was kind of a bumpy ride at first...I'll spare you the details, but I may or may not have had a couple exciting adventures through some intersections."

"No, no, I don't want to know." Leo immediately began, making the other three laugh.

"Oh, come on, momma Leo! Don't you wanna know how little bro took on the Big Apple for the first time? How bad was it, Mikey?"

"Please, spare me," Leo begged. "And if you're going to keep calling me names, Raph, at least decide if I'm mommy or daddy!"

When he heard his other two brothers start wheezing and cackling, Mikey couldn't help but laugh along. "Hey, nobody got hurt, ok? I'm not _that_ bad of a driver!" He protested, chuckling. "New York is definitely worse, but I think I managed. I've gotten better at it since then. Um, I've never necessarily read the DMV handbook or anything, though. I kinda have to figure it out as I go...oh, I hate the signs, though," Mikey groaned. "Leo, did you ever notice that trying to find the highway is like finding your way through a bowl of spaghetti? Dude, I'm starting to think somebody just put the road signs there to make people feel bad about the fact that they don't know where they're going."

Leo busted out laughing. "I'm not usually paying attention to that, but yeah, they have confused me once or twice..."

"It's not just me?!" Mikey sighed in relief. "Thank goodness! I thought I was going crazy."

"What do you mean? You are crazy." Raph jibed. "Crazy and directionally challenged."

"You don't know, Raph! You don't know the struggle!"

"Oops, I forgot – a crazy, directionally challenged cheesehead. That's what you are!" Raph concluded, sounding satisfied.

"Meanie!" Mikey blew a raspberry at him, and received one back.

"Now now, children." Donnie reprimanded, settling them down. "Hey, Mike, I'm sorry you ran into trouble, but I'm glad you're alright – that's all the matters. You should try to get some rest and not worry about it, ok? We'll do that for you."

"Ok," Mikey chuckled. "Thanks, Don."

"Take your time finding a water bottle. At least you said you found a disguise, so you can use water fountains and things." Leo added. "Have you got enough food? Crackers and muffins can't last very long. And are you warm enough? You always get cold faster than the rest of us. I just wanna be sure –"

"Speakin'a worrying for'ya... _OW!_ Buzz _off_ , Leo! _Gosh!_ "

"I'm fine, you guys," Mikey assured, laughing. "I promise, cross my heart. I'm planning on stocking up on more food when I get the chance. And I'm plenty warm," he added, pulling the hoodie tighter. Leo was right about him getting cold, as embarrassing as it was, and it was still chilly out. He hoped it would warm up soon as he continued traveling south.

"Alright...well, as Raph's bruises start to develop, I think we're gonna let you go so you can get some well-deserved rest." Donnie said. "Master Splinter wanted to talk to you, but he had to make an important grocery trip. I forgot to say so earlier, when you told us about the cops. Sorry he had to miss out tonight..."

"Oh. That's ok," Mikey replied, though his heart sank a little. He'd hoped at first he would get to talk to his father tonight, too – at least be able to hear his comforting voice – but he wasn't around, after all. "Well, we can get him on the phone some other time, right?"

"'Course," Raph promised, his voice warm and comforting. Mikey could just imagine the knowing grin he always gave him. "Maybe tomorrow, huh?"

"Sounds good," Mikey grinned, closing his eyes. "I've got a couple things to do before I go to sleep, and I'm super tired...I'm gonna have to run inside really soon here before I start sleepwalking."

"I bet you would be tired, after a day like this," Leo said. "Try to get some sleep."

"Don't let the truck-bugs bite!" Raph added.

"Goodnight, Mikey," Donnie said. "We love you, so much. We'll talk to you tomorrow,"

"G'night," Mikey replied. "I love you guys more. Tell Master Splinter, too! And try to keep Raph out of trouble for me, ok?"

"Hey!"

"We'll do our best," Leo laughed. "Love you."

"Love you!" Donnie pitched in.

Grumbling, Raph added, "Love you too, numbskull. 'Night."

Almost hesitantly, the four hung up again. Mikey laid in the truck with an arm over his eyes, letting out a frazzled sigh and resting for a moment. They'd said Master Splinter was on a grocery run...ever since he and his brothers had started going topside when they were old enough, they were mostly in charge of that duty now, and they didn't mind – any excuse to get out of the lair, or spend longer away. That their sensei had gone this time told Mikey that his brothers were too preoccupied to do it, and he knew that probably meant they were busy trying to pin him down.

...

Well, after all, he couldn't say he was surprised. Knowing Donnie, he knew from the beginning they would be working their honest best to crack his code – he looked at his T-phone again and checked the work he'd done, just on an impulse. It was the same as ever...Donnie was probably gonna have trouble with it, and that was ok by him.

If the guys wanted to come after him to help or bring him home, he wasn't stopping them. He almost wished they would...he missed them really bad, and even feeling much better when he talked with them, it reminded him of just how far apart they were. Hopefully, though, his encrypted phone would keep them in the lair long enough to stall them through the worst of this – long enough for him to find out what he needed to get this done, too.

He got up, slipping his hat back on and taking the keys with him, and started out the back door. He wanted to know if he could get that water bottle after all.

* * *

There was a small moment of silence after they hung up with Mikey.

The three looked around at each other, and then immediately away, laughing to shrug it off, so they wouldn't all burst into tears.

At this, Donnie paused with a hand to his forehead, and started back to work on his computer, where he'd been sitting throughout the whole phone call. Leo and Raph were standing next to him, in the lab. Tapping away, Donnie said, "Well...that was more than enough time to collect what mixed-up info Mikey's phone would give us. Lemme see..." After a few more taps, a box came up on the monitor screen with what appeared to be many complicated mathematical patterns and numbers. "Holy crap..." Donnie exclaimed.

"What's all _that?_ " Raph asked, pointing at the screen in exaggeration.

"The code," Donnie surmised. "He didn't create all this, but it's the product of his tinkering. Somehow he knew how to do what was needed to get the results he wanted."

"I told you," Raph mumbled.

"So what do we do with it?" Leo asked. "Just unscramble it?"

"It's a file of his scrambled signal and satellite location, from the time of the call. It's mixed, a little manipulated and tightly locked. I don't doubt he was trying to slip us all under the FBI's radar, too." He guessed. "This is actually a really simple divergence, but with the highest success rate of its kind...and that's for a reason – it's annoying and tedious as all shell to take apart. He did this once when he pranked us, but that doesn't make it any easier to decode...I gotta start hiding those cellphone handbooks." Donnie irritably grumbled before continuing, "This will take a lot of computer work, attention and time, but with the right methods I think I can crack this. Though, once this file is set straight, it'll only tell me where he was at the time of this call...not where he'll actually be. But once I do solve this, all the patterns and information will already be unlocked and sorted through in my computer, and with that info, we can hack through Mikey's phone during another call and tap into his satellite location. Then, boom! We got him," he said.

"Alright. Sounds like a plan," Leo grinned, but Raph hesitated. When he received curious glances, he thought for a minute before speaking.

"You know," he finally started, slowly at first, "About that. Well...you probably already thought about this, didn't you Leo?"

A little surprised, Leo waited to let Raph continue, "Look...I don' give a flip about whatever idiots _or_ their big-shot guns we gotta face to go after that little dumbbell, but I know you're aware of the 'Men in Black' up there," He said, pointing upwards, "An' I know for sure you don' like taking risks where you don' hav'ta." He paused, giving Leo a critical look. "I know you, bro. Is there any kind of special plan you been coming up with for us to get to Mikey...?"

Leo looked down and sighed. Donnie stared at his toes; this had crossed his mind, too, and he was eager to know what Leo thought. "You're right," Leo said, "I have thought about it. Mikey's thought about this too, and he knows he's put us in a good position – we're safe here. And yeah –sprinting off after him, particularly right now, would be outrageously dangerous." He crossed his arms. "But Raph, you're the one that's been watching the news," He said. "They haven't come up with anything new about the case, and the FBI can only wing it with so much to go on. The chase is going to die down when they start looking around for new leads, and it's more than likely gonna take us about that long to track him down, too."

Leo nodded confidently to Raph and Donnie. "There won't be so much danger at that point, and we'll have an opportunity to move. By then, it's safe to say Mikey will welcome the support."

The other two looked at each other, processing this idea. Donnie looked up at Leo. "Well, as long as we get that note de-coded before his phone, and don't come rushing after him without deciphering it for him."

"Probably," Leo agreed with a wry grin. "I imagine we'll have plenty of time to do that, though."

Hesitating in thought, an almost condescending glint appearing in his eyes, Donnie slowly added, "And when we do find him, we're ALL going after Mikey, right?"

Leo grimaced, sighing – this is why it was almost pointless trying to hide these kinds of things from his brothers. "Listen, we'll figure out what to do when that time comes. For now, let's just focus on getting there."

"W'as _that_ supposed to mean, _fearless leader?_ " Raph challenged, catching on and edging closer to his older brother's face.

"It doesn't _mean_ anything," Leo rebuttled, standing his ground. "The situation is complicated enough, and it's hard to set _anything_ in stone right now, alright? Whatever happens, I assure you it's going to be a group effort. Let's just take things one step at a time. I'm really too tired to think that far ahead right now, anyway."

Huffing, Raph and Donnie dropped the case for now, unsatisfied but deciding to leave it for the moment. Turning to his computer to examine the technological drabble displayed before him, Donnie shifted to get comfortable in his chair as there was a short moment of tense quiet throughout the lab, the soft humming and occasional beep of his machinery becoming noticeable once again. After a moment, he chuckled a little, somewhat sadly. "Mikey would have started singing that stupid Jordin Sparks song when you said that."

"What?" Leo looked at him, confused.

"One Step At A Time," He said. "You know, that song. Just to be annoying."

Seeing what he meant, Raph's and Leo's hearts both immediately melted in despair, all without warning and catching them off guard. Looking at each other and both being surprised at the wounded expression looking back, they looked to the floor.

"You're right. He probably would."

* * *

 _Chapter Stats_

Location: Moorestown, Pennsylvania (Shh! Don't tell the guys!)

Possessions: Weapons & gear, clothes, iPod, toothbrush & toothpaste, crackers, muffins, sunglasses, phone charger

Money: 10 cents

Note:

 _Indian Point plant, 2 gl. drum_

 _H. wren south, initiating in 20 days_

Song: A Great Big World - Already Home

 **A/N:** _"...And I'm not a fan of year-long waits between chapters, so I like to have a fanfiction mostly completed before uploading chapters, haha."_

...

I have failed you all. I will now send myself to be punished T_T

Yeah, so...my _original_ plan was to upload chapters about a week apart or so after I had gotten a lot of progress done, but it was taking too long so I uploaded the first chapter and said I'd be trying to get the next one out soon. It doesn't look like my original plan is gonna work out much at all. I'm sorry. Blame my job T-T I will still be trying to get the next chapters out as soon as possible, there are just some details about the story I have to go through and make sure are there before I release chapters. Thanks to all of you for being so patient!

This chapter was a little slower and didn't have as much action, but it will be picking up soon, never fear!

On a side note, I have no idea how the bro's actually pee or use the bathroom, so just go with it, LOL. Some things are better without an explanation...also, Mikey's driving struggles come from some of my own personal experience from when I first started out. :P


End file.
